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THE GLEN COLLECTION
OF SCOTTISH MUSIC
Presented by Lady Dorothea Ruggles-
Brise to the National Library of Scotland,
in memory of her brother, Major Lord
George Stewart Murray, Black Watch,
killed in action in France in 1914.
2Eth January 1927.
#
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2011 with funding from
National Library of Scotland
http://www.archive.org/details/lyricgemsofscotlOOrugg
THE
LYRIC GEMS OF SCOTLAND
COLLECTION OF SCOTTISH SONGS,
ORIGINAL AND SELECTED,
WITH MUSIC.
Ent. Sta. Hall
GLASGOW : DAVID JACK, 61 JAMAICA STEEET.
LONDON : DEAN & SON, 31 LUDGATE HILL.
GLASGOW :
PRINTED BY BELL AND BAIN.
TO
WILLIAM CAMERON, ESQ.,
AUTHOR OF "JESSIE o' THE DELL," "MEET ME ON THE GOWAN LEA,
" WILLIE AND ME," ETC., ETC.
Dear Sir,
I beg respectfully to Dedicate the " Lyric Gems of Scotland "
to you, as a sincere token of my esteem for you as a friend, and gratitude for the
kindly interest which, as an enthusiastic lover of Scottish Song, you have taken
in the progress of the work.
I am, Sir,
Yours faithfully,
THE PUBLISHER.
September, 1856.
PREFACE.
In projecting the present work, the aim of the Publisher has been to form a collection
of the Standard Melodies of Scotland, in which the compositions of many of the modern
Song-writers of Scotland would find a niche side by side with those of the elder
Minstrels, and to produce the work at such a cost as shall place it within the reach
of all classes of the community, however humble. It is gratifying to state that the
reception of the work (exceeding the most sanguine anticipations of the Publisher)
has proved the idea a sound one.
It has been objected to this work that the absence of Piano-forte Accompaniments
renders it comparatively unsuitable to a large section of the musical public, and the
objection is not without force ; but the work is intended to meet the wants of that
larger section, to whom the Piano-forte is " a sealed book," yet who have, nevertheless,
musical tastes and capabilities of a very high order — a class, we are happy to see,
every day improving both in numbers and ability. To all those who wish to see the
genial science taking root and spreading among the masses, it will be gratifying to
learn that the appearance of each Part has been hailed with intense delight at many
firesides in Scotland and elsewhere.
On the first of November will be published Part First of the Casquet of Lyric
Gems. This work will not be confined entirely to Scottish Songs, and will contain
Accompaniments for the Piano, while the price still places it within the reach of
all ; and to obviate the complaints as to the length of time between the appearance
of the Parts, the issue will be Monthly, instead of Quarterly, in the case of the
present work. — See Advertisement at end of Glossary.
September, 1856.
CONTENTS.
When the first line differs from the title, both are given, in order to facilitate reference.
The Songs marked (a), are here first published ; (6), Music only here first published ; (c), Copyright
Songs inserted in this work by permission of the Publishers.
Page
Ae fond kiss and then we sever— Duet, 116
A friend c mine cam1 here yestreen 123
cAfton Water, 3
flA guid New-year to ane an' a' — Song and
Chorus, 66
Ah ! Chloris, could I now but sit— Duet, . . 98
Allen-a-dale has no faggot for burning, . ..180
Allister Macallister, 71
cAlma, field of heroes, hail, 84
A Man's a Man for a' that, 1 89
Annie Laurie, 94
A n' thou were mine ain thing, 36
cAre ye doing ought weel, are ye thriving,
my man, 46
cAs Jean sat at her spinning wheel, 97
«As wand'ring my lane down by sweet Birk-
enshaw, 12
At Willie's wedding on the green, 183
Auld Joe Nicholson's Bonnie Nannie, 129
Auld Robin Gray, 37
Away ye gaylandscapes,ye gardens of roses,174
Behold the hour, the boat arrive— Duet, ..153
aBe kind to auld grannie, for noo she is frail, 142
Bess the Gawkie, 60
Bide ye Yet, 141
Blythe young Bess to Jean did say, 60
aBonnie Annie, 53
cBonnie Bessie Lee had a face fu' o' smiles, 28
Bonnie Dundee 41
cBonnie Jeanie Gray, 161
Bonnie lassie, will ye go, 83
Bonnie Mary Hay, 165
Bonnie wee thing, canny wee thing, 139
Page
Bonnie Wood o' Craigielee, «5
cBothwell Castle, 6
Braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes, 78
aBumper Nae Mair, 101
aBy the auld ingleside, in the days that are
gane, ..151
Caller Herrin', 16
SCallumo' Glen, 20
Cam' ye by Athol, lad wi' the philabeg, 92
Can ye lo'e me weel, lassie, 23
cCastles in the Air, 9
Ca' the Ewes to the Knowes, 181
Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south, 73
aCome again, O come again— Duet, 74
Come all ye jolly shepherds that whistle
through the glen, 40
aCome, lads, and round the table sit— Song
and Chorus, 100
Come o'er the Stream, Charlie— Song and
Chorus, 130
Come under my plaidie, the night's gaun
to fa', 186
Comin' through the Craigs o' Kyle— Song
and Chorus, 164
cConfide ye aye in Providence, for Provi-
dence is kind, 109
Cope sent a letter frae Dunbar, 15
flDinna think, my Bonnie Lassie, 77
Donald, 124
Down whar the burnie rins wimplin' and
cheerie, 51
Dunois the Brave, 56
Page
a Fareweel, fareweel, my native hame, 33
Fareweel to Lochaber, fareweel to ray Jean
—Trio, 166
6Farewell to the land of the rock and the
wild wood, 119
Farewell, thou Fair Day— Trio, 176
Far over yon hills of the heather sae green, 5
Flora M 'Donald's Lament, 5
cFlow gently, sweet Afton, 3
For Home and for Love, 25
For the Sake o> Somebody, 91
Get up and Bar the Door, 128
Gin I had a wee house an' a canty M'ee fire, 141
Gloomy Winter's now awa', 127
Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances, 52
Hame cam' our Gudeman at e'en, 124
Haud awa' frae me, Donald, 168
Here awa', there awa>, wandering Willie, .. 35
aHere's a Health to Scotia's Shore, 47
He's owre the hills that I lo'e weel— Duet, 104
How blythely the pipe through Glenlyon
was sounding, 25
6Hurrah for the Thistle, the bonnie Scotch
Thistle, 55
I am a young man, I live wi' my mither, . . 22
I ance was a wanter, as happy's a bee, 30
cllka Blade o' Grass keps its ain drap o' dew, 109
I'll ha'e my Coat o' gude Snuff-brown, .... 169
I may sit in my wee croo house, 112
I met four chaps yon birks amang, 147
I'm owre Young to Marry yet, 79
In Scotland there liv'd a humble Beggar, . . 158
In winter when the rain rain'd cauld 93
Is there for honest poverty, '. 189
els your War-pipe Asleep, M'Crimman ? . . .. 42
It fell upon a day, a bonnie summer day, . . 31
It fell about the Martinmas time, 128
61 think of thee when some sweet song is
breathing— Duet, 34
It's here awa', there awa', how they did rin, 118
It was Dunois, the young and brave, 56
I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling, 24
61 watch'd the moon blink o'er the hill, 110
61 winna gang back to my Mammy again, . . 162
aJeanie's Nae Mair, 150
Jenny Dang the Weaver, 183
Jenny's Bawbee, 147
Jessie, the Flower o' Dumblane, 182
Jockey's ta'en the Pairtin' Kiss, 99
Jock o' Hazeldean, 185
John Anderson, my Jo 149
John Grumlie swore by the light o' the
moon, 54
Johnnie Cope, 15
Page
Kind Robin lo'es me, 57
Laddie, oh ! leave me, 51
Lassie wi' the Lint- white Locks, 192
aLeave the city's busy throng— Song and
Chorus, 148
oLet others thirst for wealth and fame, .... 145
Lochaber no More 1 66
6Lock the door, Lariston, lion of Liddesdale, 69
Logie o' Buchan— Duet, 106
Loons, ye maun gae hame, 118
Lord Ronald 38
6Love whispered to the nightingale, 135
Macgregor's Gathering, 26
cMarch of the Cameron Men, 4
aMary an' Me, 13
a Mary, dearest maid, I leave thee, 39
Mary Morison, 187
6Mary's Bower, 135
«Mary Shaw, 49
Maxwellton braes are bonnie, 94
cMeet me on the Gowan Lea, 10
aMellow and Merry we're a', we're a', 48
aMild and modest bonnie lassie, — 49
Mirk and rainy is the nicht, 29
aMorag's Fairy Glen, 14
Muirland Willie 64
cMy ain Dear Nell, 11
My Ain Fireside— Duet, 138
My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie, 89
My heart is sair, I daurna tell, 91
My Heart's in the Highlands, 121
aMy Lizzie an' Me, 7
My Love is like a Red Red Rose, 126
My Mither's aye Glowrin' owre me, 59
My Nannie's Awa', 27
aMy Own Sweet Rose, 145
My Tocher's the Jewel, 78
My Wife has ta'en the Gee, 123
aMy Willie an' Me, 12
cNaebody kens ye, 46
aNae flowery braes in Nature's pride, 53
Now in her green mantle blythe Nature
arrays, 27
Now row thee weel.my bonnie built wherry, 154
6Now tell me, sweet Mary, our gay village
pride, 120
aO Aileen, dear Aileen, 86
O, Allister Macallister, 71
O ! are ye Sleeping, Maggie ? 29
aO bonnie Blinks the Gowan, 72
cO bonnie Nelly Brown, I will sing a sang
to thee 11
cO bright the beaming queen of night, 8
O gin my Love were yon red rose— Duet,. 82
CONTENTS.
«0 far may ye roam o'er the hills and the
heather, 21
O hearken and I will tell you how, 64
0 hush thee, my bahy, thy sire was a
knight, 184
0, I ha'e seen great anes, and sat in great
ha's— Duet 138
0 Logie o' Buchan, 0 Logie the laird— Duet, 106
0 Mary, at thy window he, 187
50 meikle bliss is in a kiss, 117
0 meikle thinks my love o' ray beauty, 78
aO, mellow and merry we're a', we're a', 48
0 my love is like a red, red rose, 126
0 Nanny, wilt thou gang wi' me? 90
0, rattlim, roarin' Willie 67
aO, sad wails the norlan' wind round my
lane sheilim, 150
60 safely sleep, my bormie, bonnie bairn, ..133
0 saw ye Willie frae the west, 108
0 speed, Lord Nithsdale, speed ye fast, .... 191
aO vow to me, Sally, dear Sally, that never, 80
0 waly ! waly ! up the bank — Duet, 132
0 weel may the Boatie Row— Solo, Duet,
and Trio, 178
60 weep no more, dear mother, 95
O wha's at the Window, wha, wha ? 155
cO whaur was ye sae late yestreen ? 161
0 where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my
son? 38
60h, saw ye Willie frae the west, 108
aOh, why didst thou leave me ? 50
Of Nelson and the North,, 134
cOld Bothwell Castle's ruined towers, 6
60ur bark is on the waters deepK our bright
blades in our hand— Trio, v... .\ Ill
aPhoebus wi' Gowden Crest, 152
aPrince Charles' Farewell to Flora, 19
Put off, put off, and row wi' speed, 163
Queen Marys Escape from Lochleven Cas-
tle, 163
Rattlin*, Roarin' Willie, 67
Rise, rise, Lowland and Highlandmen, .... 44
Robin is my only Jo, 57
aRow, Lads, Row— Clyde Boat Song and
Chorus 148
Row thee weel, my bonnie built wherry, ..154
Row weel, my Boatie, Row weel— Duet, ..105
cRoyal Charlie's now awa\ 114
Roy's Wife of Aldivalloch— Duet, 156
Saw ye Johnnie Comin*? quo' she— Duet, 146
Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, 143
^Scottish Lasses— Song and Chorus, 100
a Sing not to me of sunny shores, 47
cSweet Jessie o' the Dell, 8
Tage
aSweetMay, 96
TamGlen, 89
Tak* your Auld Cloak about ye, 93
aThe Auld Ingle-side, 151
The Battle of the Baltic, 134
The Birks of Aberfeldy, 83
The Boatie Rows— Solo, Duet, and Trio, ..178
cThe bonnie, bonnie bairn, who sits poking
in the ase, 9
The bonnie House o' Airly, 31
aThe bonnie Morning after the Rain, 173
«The bonnie wee birdies that sing in the
glen, 13
aThe Border Rifleman's Song, 87
6The Braes o' Ballochmyle, 137
The broom, the brier, the birken bush 65
6The Catrine woods were yellow seen, 137
The daisy is fair, the day lily rare, 129
6The Danish Sea-King's Song— Trio, Ill
The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn, 190
aThe Field of Bannockburn, 17
aThe Flag of Britannia, the pride of the free, 68
The Flowers of the Forest, 24
6The Kiss ahint the Door, 117
The Lass o' Gowrie— Duet, 188
bThe Mariner's Child, 95
cThe Married Man's Lament, 30
The moon's on the lake and the mist's on
the brae, 26
aThe nicht had been rainy, but fair was the
morning, 173
aThe Pairtin', 39
aThe Recall— Duet, 74
aThe Scottish Emigrant's Fareweel, 33
aThe soger bedecked wi' his fine jewelled stars, 7
cThe Spinning Wheel, 97
6The summer has come wi' its sunshine and
showers, 96
The sun has gaen down o'er the lofty Ben-
lomond, 182
The sun rises bright in France, 115
The Thistle and the Rose, 159
6The Thorn Tree, 110
aThe voice of the spirit of tempest is near,
love, 19
The wee, wee German Lairdie, 81
6The Widow's Lullaby, 133
aThe woods are a' joyous while spring is
restoring, 50
The Woods o' Dunmore, 160
There are twa bonnie maidens, 102
There grew in bonnie Scotland, 159
There Grows a Bonnie Brier Bush in our
Kail-yard— Duet, 94
There lives a young lassie far down in yon
glen, 63
cThere's many a man of the Cameron clan, 4
Page
There was a Lad was born in Kyle, 61
This lone heart is thine, lassie, charming
and fair, 160
Thou art gane awa' frae me, Mary, 144
aThough the sun's in the sea, lads, the moon
drowned in drift, 101
Though you Leave me now in Sorrow, .... 157
To the Lords of Convention, 'twas Claver- .
house spoke, 41
Twa Bonnie Maidens, 102
a'Twas on a bonnie simmers day, 17
'Twas on a simmers afternoon— Duet, .. ..188
'Twas within a Mile of Edinburgh Town, . . 62
aTwilight o'er the "Vale is stealing— Duet, . . 58
Up in the Morning Early, 73
cWake, Mary, Wake ! —Duet, 170
Wandering Willie, 85
6 Was ever old warrior of suffering so weary, 20
Page
c We'll hae nane but Highland Bonnets here, 84
Were I but able to rehearse, 190
Wha'll buy my caller herrin', 16
Wha the deil hae we gotten for a king 81
When first you courted me, I own, 124
aWhen I left our auld glen the young gow-
ans were springing 87
When the King comes owre the Water, . . .112
When the Kye comes Hame, 40
When the sheep are in the fauld and the
kye at hame, 37
Why weep ye by the tide, ladye ? 185
6 Willie wi' his Wig Ajee, 108
Will ye go to the Ewe Bughts, Marion? ... 122
cWill you no come back again ? 114
Within a Mile of Edinburgh Town, 62
Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon— Duet, 136
aYe ken whar yon wee burnie, love, 14
aYe Needna be Courtin' at me, Auld Man, . . 140
Publishers are cautioned against infringing the Copyrights in this Work. The right of
republication and translation is reserved.
Words by Burns.
Andante grazioso.
AFTON WATER.
Music by A. Hume.
m-
Flow gent - ly, sweet Af - toil,
mong thy green braes, Flow gent-ly,
j^FEpEgEEgg^j
sing thee
hy thy
Thou stock-dove whose
eres. rail.
re - sounds thro' the glen, Ye
cadenza ad lib. ^ a tempo.
wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorn - y den, Thou
P
green crested
lapwing thy screaming forbear, I charge you disturb not my slum - ber - ing fair.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays ;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, —
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Moderate and ivith animation.
THE MARCH OF THE CAMERON MEN.
As sung by Mr. M'G. Simpson.
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There's man-y a man of the Ca - mer - on clan, That has follow'd his
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chief to the field ; He has sworn to support him, or die by his side, For a
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Ca - mer - on nev-er can yield.
I hear the pibroch sounding, sounding,
deep o'er the mountains and glens.
While light springing footsteps are
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trampling the heath, 'Tis the march of the Ca - mer - on men. 'Tis the
march,
*Tis the march,
'Tis the march of the Ca-mer-on men.
Oh ! proudly they walk, but each Cameron knows
He may tread on the heather no more ;
But boldly he follows his chief to the field,
Where his laurels were gather'd before.
I hear the pibroch sounding, &c.
The moon has arisen, it shines on that path
Now trod by the gallant and true —
High, high are their hopes, for their chieftain has said,
That whatever men dare they can do.
I hear the pibroch sounding, &c.
This song is inserted by the kind permission of Messrs. Paterson & Sons, 27 George-St
Edinburgh, from whom copies with Piano Forte accompaniments may be had.
FLOEA MACDOUAID'S LAMENT.
Far o - ver yon hills of the heather sae green, And down by the
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cor-rie that sings to the sea, The bon-nie young Flora sat sigh-ing her
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lane, The dew on her plaid, and the tear in her e'e. She
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look'd at a boat, with the breezes that swung, A-way on the wave, like a
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bird of the main, And aye as it lessen'd, she sigh'd and she sung, Fare-
weel to the lad I maun ne'er see a - gain, Fare-weel to my he-ro, the
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gal - lant and young, Fareweel to the lad I shall ne'er see a ■
The moorcock that craws on the brow of Ben ConnaL
He kens o' his bed in a sweet mossy hame ;
The eagle that soars on the cliffs of Clanronald,
Unawed and unlimited, his eyrie can claim ;
The solan can sleep on his shelve of the shore,
The cormorant roost on his rock of the sea ;
But oh ! there is one whose hard fate 1 deplore,
Nor house, ha', nor hame, in this country has he.
The conflict is past, and our name is no more :
There's nought left but sorrow for Scotland and ma
BOTHWELL CASTLE.
Words by William Cameron, Esq. Music by Nathaniel Govt.
Old Bothwell Castle's ru-in'd towers Stand lone-ly 'mang yon woody bowers, Where
>ath to leave the hallow'd ground.
Clu-tha fond - ly winds a-round, As loath to leave the hallow'd ground.
V
But where are now the martial throng ? The festive board, the midnight song ? The
express, ad lib. tempo, f ^
i - vy binds the mould'ring walls, And ru - in reigns in Both-well halls.
express, ad lib. «- ni_ ^ tempo.
O deep and long have slumber'd now The cares that knit the soldier's brow; The
cadenza ad lib. /T\ tempo '~^~-~- ^
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lovely grace, the man-ly power, In
gilded hall
Old Bothwell Castle, ages gone
Have left thee mould'ring and alone j
While noble Douglas still retains
Thy verdant groves and fair domains.
No Saxon foe may storm thy walls,
Or riot in thy regal halls —
Long, long hath slept brave Wallace' shade,
And broken now his battle blade.
The tears that fell from beauty's eye,
The broken heart, the bitter sigh,
And deadly feuds have pass'd away,
Still thou art lovely in decay.
Old Bothwell, £e.
and lady's bower,
D.C. Old Bothwell, &&
MY LIZZIE AN' ME.
Words by James Reed.
Cheerfully.
Music by A. Hume.
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ger bedeck'd wi' his fine jewell'd stars, May brag o' his trophies an'
feats in the wars; An' vow nane but
glo - ry his mis - tress shall be ; E'en
let him, what's that to my Liz - zie and me? My Liz - zie and me, My
Liz - zie an' me, For we love but ilk
ther, my Liz - zie and me.
They may talk o' their queens an' their nobles sae gay,
An' their Draw, courtly dames in their silken array ;
An' boast that nane richer nor prouder can be, —
E'en let them — what's that to my Lizzie an' me?
My Lizzie an' me —
If we're puir, we're content, baith my Lizzie an' me.
O the warld has nae scene in its circuit o' pride
That could wile me awa', or entice me to bide ;
An life has nae pleasure nor solace to gie
Like the heart-love, the soul-love o' Lizzie an' me.
My Lizzie an' me —
An' its lang since we ken'd this, my Lizzie an' me.
My sheep are my subjects, my kingdom the brae,
An' my throne is the rock where the free breezes play j
An' the cot, shelter'd o'er by yon green birken tree,
Is the ha', house, an' castle, o' Lizzie an' me.
My Lizzie an' me —
Though we're auld we're like bairns yet, my Lizzie an' ma
SWEET JESSIE 0' THE DELL.
Words by W. Cameron, Esq. Music by Mathew Wilson.
0 bright the beam-ing queen o' night Shines in yon flow' - ry vale, And
is the way, when light's the heart That's bound in love's soft spell ;
nie lass
Ar - ma - dale, Sweet Jes -
the DelL
We've pu'd the primrose on the braes
Beside my Jessie's cot,
We've gather'd nuts, we've gather' d slaes
In that sweet rural spot.
The wee short hours danc'd merrily,
Like lambkins on the fell ;
As if they join'd in joy wi' me,
And Jessie o' the Dell. Sweet Jessie o' the Dell, &c.
There's nane to me wi' her can vie,
I'll love her till I dee;
For she's sae sweet and bonnie aye,
And kind as kind can be.
This night in mutual kind embrace
O who our joys may tell ;
Then I'll awa' to Armadale,
To Jessie o' the Dell. Jessie o' the Dell, &c.
With sentiment.
CASTLES IN THE AIR.
what sees he there? Ha! the young dreamer's bigging castles in the air.
His wee chub-by face, and his tou - zie cur - ly pow, Are laughing and
singe his sun - ny hair, Glow'ring at the imps wi' their castles in the air.
He sees muclde castles towering to the moon !
He sees little sodgers pu'ing them a' doun !
Worlds whomhling up and doun, bleezing wi' a flare, —
See how he loups! as they glimmer in the air.
For a' sae sage he looks, what can the laddie ken ?
He's thinking upon naething, like mony mighty men ;
A wee thing mak's us think, a sma' thing mak's us stare, —
There are mair folk than him bigging castles in the air.
Sic a night in winter may weel mak' him cauld :
His chin upon his buffy hand will soon mak' him auld;
His brow is brent sae braid, 0 pray that daddy Care,
Would let the wean alane wi' his castles in the air !
He'll glower at the fire! and he'll keek at the light!
But mony sparkling stars are swallow'd up by night;
Aulder een than his are glamoured by a glare,
Hearts are broken, heads are turn'd wi' castles in the air.
Note.— The words of this song are inserted by the kind permission of the Publisher, Mr.
D. Robertson, and the Author, Mr. James Ballantine; and the Music by the kind permission
of Messrs. David Swan & Co., 70 Buchanan-Street, of whom copies of this song, with Piano-
Forte accompaniments, may be hud, price One Shilling.
10
MEET ME OXT THE GOWAN LEA.
Words by W. Cameron. Music by Mathew Wilson.
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:t me on the gowan lea, Bon-nie Ma - ry,
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sweetest Ma-ry,
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Meet me on the gow - an lea, My
my art - less
Ma - ry.
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the sun sink
the west, And na - tur<
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gane to rest, There to my fond, my faith-fu' breast, 0 let me clasp my
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Ma - ry. Meet me on the gow-an lea, Bonnie Ma - ry, sweetest Ma - ry,
Con eapres. ad libitum.
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Meet me on the gow - an lea, My ain my art •
The gladsome lark o'er moor and fell,
The lintie in the bosky dell,
Nae blyther than your bonnie sel',
My ain, my artless Mary.
Meet me, &c.
We'll join our love notes to the breeze
That sighs in whispers through the trees,
And a' that twa fond hearts can
Will be our sang, dear Mary.
Meet me, &c.
There ye shall sing the sun to rest,
While to my faithfu' bosom prest,
Then wha sae happy, wha sae blest,
As me and my dear Mary.
Meet me, &c.
Ma - ry.
In moderate iim«.
Illlliljfe^
11
MY AIN DEAR NELL.
Words and Music by A. Ilurne.
:^:
l^gfel
0 bon-nie Nel-ly Brown, I will sing a sang to thee; Tho' o-ceans wide be-twc
^EpJ^JE^^^^g^^
-fr « i '-tr — •« — |r
down in Lin-ton's dell, I took my last fond look o' thee, my ain dear Nell.
cres
^g^^^BS
f
0 tell me, Nel-ly Brown, do ye mind our youthfu' days, When we ran a-bout the
«E^rfS=y^3=
N=^
i J E
burn-ie's side, or speel'd the gow'ny braes; When I pu'd the crawpea's blossom, an' the
bloom-in' hea-ther bell, To twine them round thy bonnie brow, my ain dear Nell.
How often, Nelly Brown, hae we wandered o'er the lea,
Where grow the brier, the yellow broom, an' flowery hawthorn tree ;
Or sported 'mang the leafy woods, till nicht's lang shadows fell —
O we ne'er had thoughts o' partin' then, my ain dear Nell !
And in winter, Nelly Brown, when the nichts were lang an' drear,
We would creep down by the ingle-side some fairy tale to hear ;
We cared nae for the snawy-drift, or nippin' frost sae snell,
For we lived but for each ither then, my ain dear Nell !
They tell me, Nelly Brown, that your bonnie raven hair
Is snaw- white now, an' that your brow, sae cloudless ance an' fair,
Looks care-worn now, an' unco sad, but I heed nae what they tell,
For I ne'er can think you're changed to me, my ain dear Nell!
Ance mair, then, Nelly Brown, I hae sung o' love an' thee ,
Though oceans wide between us row, ye're aye the same to me,
As when I sighed my last farewell in Linton's flowery dell—
0 I ne'er can tine my love for thee, my ain dear Nell !
Note.— This song is inserted by the kind permission of the publisher, Mr. Purdie, 83 Princes-
Street, Edinburgh, from whom copies, with Pianoforte accompaniments, may be had.
12
MY WILLIE AN' ME.
Words by W. Cameron.
Andante.
Music by W. Morria
IFF*— ar=I«— J J1— jHrF=g— j— f ^^H-^-^ZI3— «~ *— \rz
As wand'ring my lane down by sweet Birkenshaw, An* thinkin' on days that are
5-frB— |— ri — *-=-« — a —
£Eg=6=g5S
e^Ff=fr^^
noo gane a-wa, I no-tic'd twa couthie wee birds on a tree, Thinks I, noo that's
-T^-
45 — (s — M — cs— a — s P-
T=fc-
7 ■— ' p f 1-
un - co like Wil-lie an' me. Thinks I, noo that's un - co like Wil-lie an' me.
■& — tribk
=E=r!=£=£=E*
■J=£z±zl
?=$£=i=Z3s:
They lilt - ed a - bout, and sae blyth-ly they sang, They flutter'd and courted, I
1?-
3T=p:
tz-:=S=P— a=
ken-ria how lang; My heart was as hap - py and fu' as could be, They minded me
sae o' my Wil - lie an' me. They minded me sae o' my Wil - lie an' me.
I wonder' d if a' the wee birds o' the dell,
As kindly and fondly their love-tales could tell ;
I wonder'd if ony twa mortals could be
As happy and leal as my Willie an' me.
They a' may be happy, — what for should they no?
And lasses fu' meikle may think o' their jo ;
But naething on earth, in the air, or the sea,
Can be half sae happy as Willie an' me.
My Willie is guid, and my Willie's sae kin',
And then, O thank Heaven, dear Willie is mine!
In the joy o' my heart the tear draps frae my e'e,
To think we're sae happy, my Willie an' me.
The hero may sigh for mair laurels — the loon —
The tyrant may grasp at a kingdom or crown;
Contented and happy I*d live till I dee,
Tho' they tak' a' the world but my Willie frae me.
Words by W. Cameron.
mplice con express.
13
MAHY AND ME.
Music by M. Wilson.
~fc— £
m^rr=^^
The bon-nie wee bir-dies that sing in the glen, A les-son micht gie to the
ggjN=gl^^g=35=^^iii^=
wis-est o' men; Nae sor-row is heard in their sang on the tree, They're joyfu' and
hap-pylike Ma-ry and me. They're joyfu' and hap-py like Ma-ry and me
^=j=*^=a=g=3E=*e^^^a^£33
The blithe face o' na-ture may change wi' the year, And streams a' get drum-lie lang
i=ls:
g^fe£^^£
f*m=m
wimp-lin' and clear; Dark howl-ing No-vem-ber may bare ilk - a tree, They
^B^S=j==E=|=bc^3=t=F^
bring nought but pleas-ure to Ma-ry and me. Dark howl-ing No-vem-ber may
ad. lib.
!=^=gp=£
bare ilk - a tree, They bring nought but plea-sure to Ma-ry and me.
Cauld winter may frown a' the flowers frae the field,
Frae lintie and lamb tak their bed and their bield ;
Tho' I pity them sair, 0 my heart's fu' o' glee,
For it's aye spring or summer to Mary and me.
Awa wi' your tears, wi' your gloom, and your noise,
For nature's a palace o' beauties and joys ;
A Heaven on earth Heaven's willing to gie, —
True love and contentment like Marv and me.
14
MORAG'S FAERY GLEN.
Words by William Cameron.
Music by M. Wilson.
?er£
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^
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— tz:
:£
Ye ken whar yon wee burnie, love, Rins roarin' to the sea, And tumbles o'er its
^^gg|^gi^iP^^^^g|
rock - y bed, Like spi - rit wild and free. The mellow mav - is tunes his lay, The
1>
^^
blackbird swells his note, And little robin sweet - ly sings Above the woody grot. There
f^rtiSSpii
3=im
meet me love, by a* unseen, Beside yon mossy den, Oh meet me love at dewy eve, In
<5^ adlib- _^ _^ f?\
fe£
:=t23
) meet me love at dew - y eve, In Morag's Fae - ry Glen.
Morag's Faery Glen. 0 meet me love at dew - y eve, In Morag's Fae
Come when the sun in robes of gold,
Sinks o'er yon hills to rest,
An' fragrance floating in the breeze,,
Comes frae the dewy west.
And I will pu' a garland gay,
To deck thy brow sae fair ;
For many a woodbine cover' d glade,
An' sweet wild flower is there.
Then meet me, love, &c.
There's music in the wild cascade,
There's love amang the trees,
There's beauty in ilk bank and brae,
An' balm upon the breeze.
There's a' of nature and of art,
That maistly weel could be,
An' 0 ! my love, when thou art there,
There's bliss in store for me !
Then meet me, love, &c.
15
New version.
JOHNNIE COPE.
As written and sung by Mr. M'G. Simpson.
Cope sent a let - - ter frae Dun-bar, Say-ing, Char-lie meet me
^J^^Bgi^^^^gMH
gin ye daur, And I'll show you the art o' war, If you'll meet me in the
4+H JM f-^-4-f=feENfrH=£=gg^
morn-ing. Then hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye wauk-ing yet? Or are your drums a-
beat-ingyet? But I'm a-fraid you'll be too late To fecht Prince Charlie in the morning.
The first lines Charlie looked upon,
He drew his sword the scabbard from,
Saying follow me her beautiful men,
She'll be a devil of a morning.
Then " Bonnie Prince Charlie" the pipes did play,
And " O'er the hills and far away," •
And they march'd nine miles that very day,
Then tookit a rest till the morning.
When Charles did arise at Prestonpans,
So sheneral-like he assembled the clans,
And when he gied the word o' command,
They fought like lions in the morning.
Then a volley from the royalists came,
Which was answered by the men o' the gallant Graham,
And a' the clans just did the same,
Then in a minute or five they got round their left in the morning.
The brave Lochiel, so stout and bold,
His temper he could not withhold,
She wasna there hersel', but she was told,
He killed fifty himself that morning.
Quarter then was a' the cry,
Some on their knees, and some did fly,
Quarter you devils — she'll half you — and down she'll did lie,
For she hisna time to quarter this morning.
16
Then Sir John and his men they couldna stay,
And O, but they looked unco wae,
And they thought far better to rin away,
Than get their heads tookit off in the morning.
CALLER HEREIN'.
This song was composed by the celebrated Neil Gow, and was suggested to him while
listening to the bells of St. Andrew's Church in Edinburgh, mingled with the cries of the
fisherwomen, who vend their herrings in the streets. These women are notorious for their
exorbitant demands, and as the purchaser generally offers about one-third of the price asked,
there is consequently much higgling before the bargain is concluded, and which generally
ends with the irresistible appeal alluded to in the song,— "Lord bless ye, mem! it's no fish
ye're buying, it's the lives o' honest men 1 " The air is beautiful, and highly descriptive of the
blended sounds.
i^^gj^p^p^^^p^
Wha'll buy my cal - ler herr-in', The're bon - nie fish and halesome farin' ;
m
Js 1—
^m
mm^m
:S=£
Buy my cal - ler herr-in', New drawn frae the Forth. When ye are sleep-ing
^
ii^^jSp
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on your pillows, Dreamt ye ought o' onr puir fellows, Darkling as they face the billows,
m^^^^^^i^^^^^m
A' to fill our woven willows. Buy my cal -ler herrin', The're bon-nie fish and
^^gs
halesome farin' ; Buy my cal - ler herr-in', New drawn frae the Forth. Wha'll
buy my cal-ler herr-in', The're no brought here without brave darin' ; buy my cal-ler
:^=S^=^
herr - in', Ye lit - tie ken their worth Wha'll buy my cal - ler herr - in', 0
^^5^^
i=3-^3:
-i^S:
PPS
you may ca' them vulgar farin' ; Wives and mithers, maist despainn', Ca' them lives o' men,
17
Noo a' ye lads at herria' fishing,
Costly vampins, dinner dressing,
Sole or turbot, how distressing,
Fine folks scorn shoals o' blessing.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin'.
&c
And when the creel o' herrin' passes,
Ladies clad in silks and laces,
Gather in their braw pelisses,
Cast their heads and screw their faces.
Wha'll buy my caller herrin', &c
Noo neebours' wives come tent my telling,
When the bonnie fish you're selling,
At a word aye be your dealing,
Truth will stand when a' things failing,
Wha'll buy my caller herrin', &c
THE FIELD OF BANNOCOTJEN.
Words by Mr. M'G. Simpson.
&3=$=$=Z
mm^m^^M
Twas on a bon-nie sim-mer's day, The Eng-lish came in grand ar-
ray, King Ed- ward's or - ders to o - bey, up - on the Field of Ban-nock-burn.
Sae loud - ly let the Pib-roch wake, Each loy-al Clan frae hill and lake, And
^r^
w^m&m
bold - ly fight for Sco-tia's sake, up •
the Field of Ban-nock-burn.
King Edward raised his standard high,
Bruce shook his banners in reply — -
Each army shouts for victory
Upon the Field of Bannockbum.
18
The English horse wi' deadly aim,
Upon the Scottish army came ;
But hundreds in our pits were slain
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.
Loud rose the war cry of M'Neil,
Who flew like tigers to the field,
And made the Sass'nach army feel
There were dauntless hearts at Bannockburn.
M'Donald's clan, how firm their pace —
Dark vengeance gleams in ev'ry face,
Lang they had thirsted to embrace
Their Sass'nach friends at Bannockburn.
The Fraser bold his brave clan led,
While wide their thistle banners spread—
They boldly fell and boldly bled
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.
(The ne'er behind*) brave Douglas came,
And also with him Donald Graham,
Their blood-red painted swords did stain
The glorious Field of Bannockburn.
That day King Edward's heart did mourn,
With joy each Scottish heart did burn,
In mem'ry now let us return
Our thanks to Bruce at Bannockburn.
Chorus.
For loudly did the pibroch wake
Our loyal clans frae hill and lake,
Wha fell and bled for Scotia's sake
Upon the Field of Bannockburn.
* The motto of the Douglas Family.
19
PEINCE CHAELES'S FAEEWELL TO FLOEA.
Old Gaelic air. The words written expressly for Mr. M'G. Simpson by A. M'Laggan, Esq.
^^g^g^j^^^g^^^l=jgpl
The voice of the spi - rit of tern-pest is near, love, Lo ! heartless misfortune has
is^nsi^il
struck the last blow; 0 where are the souls of the brave I re - vere, love; 0
jui^--js r^z^^-F-t^^H-^M-^
where, where my joy when from Flo - ra I go. Fare-well to my bright dreams of
^^=pgEgg^^pg=p=g=ggigg
fame, love, and glo-ry ; Fare-well bcmie Highlands, still dear, dear to me ; Fare-well to my
g=!=p^p^ll£^S^ipipa
lost love, my soul's dearest Flo-ra, My last sigh I'll give to dear Scot-land and thee.
Sound, sound is the sleep of the brave 'neath the willow —
Beneath the proud flag that in battle they bore ;
But, alas ! for the dream on my lightning-rent pillow,
When love hath departed and hope is no more.
When haunted by foeman and soul-clouding sadness,
Homeless and hopeless, by traitors oppressed —
When stung by the storms of misfortune to madness,
O sweet were the dreams that I dream't on your breast.
Now welcome, ye dark stormy clouds that benight me,
Welcome ye ghosts of the good and the brave ;
The pibroch's loud summons no more can delight me,
My song be the wild winds that sweeps their lone grave.
See, see yon proud eagle through stormy clouds soaring,
How fearless the flight of the wing that is free ;
Such joy may be mine, love, when Heaven restoring
The land I lo'e dear, and my Flora to me.
2D
GALIUM O'GLEN.
:zf5-_
-e gi *^— m a-
Was ev - er old war-rior of
mm
?=£Efig
suf - f ring so weary ? Was
s=i=^ii^i^=pi^s,i^
ev-er the wild beast so bayed in his den? The Southron bloodhounds lie in
-T-- p-P- r • p — -a— ^ — iSST^ c-~=n
ken-nel so near me, That death would be wel-eome to Cal-lum O'Glen.
^^^^pi^lf^l
tr— fcr-
My sons are all slain, and my daugh - ters have left me, No
=ts — — rr .. N ■«■-)— g=i=p— a— :
child to pro-tect me, where once I had ten; My chief they have slain, and of
-#— * ^« — «h
stay hath be - reft me, And wo to the gray hairs of Cal-lum O'Glen.
The homes of my kinsmen are blazing to Heaven,
The bright sun of morning has blushed at the view ;
The moon has stood still on the verge of the even,
To wipe from her pale cheek the tint of the dew.
For the dew it lies red on the vales of Lochaber,
It sprinkles the cot and it flows in the pen ;
The pride of my country is fallen for ever,
O death hast thou no shaft for Callurn O'Glen.
The sun in his glory has looked on our sorrow,
The stars have wept blood over hamlet and lea ;
0 is there no day-spring for Scotland ? no morrow
Of bright renovation for souls of the free !
Yes ! One above all has beheld our devotion,
Our valour and faith are not hid from his ken ;
The day is abiding, of stern retribution
On all the proud foemen of Callum O'Glen.
21
0 FAR MAY YE ROAM.
Words by W. Cameron. Music by Mathew "Wilson.
Moderate and expressive.
%m*m^^m^^m^m
I
srrq
0 far may ye roam o'er the hills and the heather, And lang may ye seek o'er thft
«— 7-9-
bon-nie green lea, And a' the braw towns o' the lowlands the-gith-er, A
las - sie like Jean-ie, whaur, whaur will you see. A lassie like Jeanie, whaur,
-s-S-^
"IE=±=£=E*=£=S&3^^
Love - ly the prim-rose and fair may the
ritard.
whaur will you see.
^i^^N^-J-^^
li - ly, And sweet may the vio - let bloom on yon green ; Yc'll
^^l^~Eg3iEB
pu' na the prim
-Jr-'-fr f"
3, ye'll pu' na the li - ly, Ye'll praise na the
ad libitum.
pl^^H^m^l^lil^
vio - let when ye see my Jean. Ye'll praise na the violet when ye see my Jean.
0 plant in her ringlets a rose in its blossom,
And look in her cheeks and its beauties are gane,
And place the fair lily new cull'd in her bosom,
Her bosom will tell you the lily has nane.
Then look nae owre aft at her blue e'en sae bonnie,
And look na at a' if the smile's in her e'e,
Ae glance, and your heart's on the wing, (gin ye've ony)
13 ut mingled \vi' smiles, 0 awa' it wad flee.
22
I AM A YOUNG MAN, I LIVE WI' MY MITHEE.
Sg^
55=^^
young
I live wi' ray mith - er, A braw de - cent
kim-mer I trow; But when I speak 0' tak-in' a wife, She
— k — fc — sr=?;— ' jr— z
I speak 0' tak-in
Eepeat after every verse.
mm^^mm^^
gets up in a lowe.
what do you think o' me noo, kind
— p— ^tzz^Edf=f±e=b— ^£& p P— g—i
sirs, And what do you think I should try ? For gin mith - er was dee - ing there';
the kye.
There's red-headed Jenny lives down by our side,
At shearin' she does ding them a',
But her very face, mither canna abide,
And her a wild hizzie* does ca\
Yestreen my mither, she pouther'd my wig
As white as the driven snaw,
She took an auld mutch,f and shot in my gravat,J
Beside a big breastpin and a'.
Noo gang aW Sandy, ye're gaun to the waddin',
Ye ken ye're to be the best man,§
And Betty M'Haffie's to be the best maid, ]|
Mak up to her noo like a man.
I gaed to the waddin' and Betty was there,
An' losh ! but she was buskit braw,<f[
She had ribbons and lace, a' deck'd round her face,
And necklaces twa or three raw.
Eomping girL t Morning cap. % Necktie. § Bridesman. || Bridesmaid. ^ Well-dressed.
23
Sae to please my mither an speak up till her,
At last I thocht I micht try ;
So I speer'd at Betty if ever she heard
We had twa dizzen o' kye.
Sae what do you think o' me noo, kind sirs,
And what do jtou think I should try ?
But wi' a toss o' her head, she answered, Indeed !
Wha cares for you or your kye.
Moderate g:
CAN YE LO'E ME WEEL, LASSIE.
!g^=^=pf
Can ye lo*e me weel, lassie,
To this heart then swift - ly
$j>=$— $—r
^^^i^
m
There ye aye shall dwell, lass - ie, Mair than a' this world to me.
When the moon-beams shine
clear, At that hour by lov - ers blest;
expves. ad lib.
At the gloam - in'
& DC.
- ie, dear, Haste to meet this faith - ful breast.
Where the bumie flows, lassie,
Gently by the mountain's side ;
Where the wild flowers grow, lassie,
Watered by the streamlet's tide.
Can ye lo'e me, &c.
As the hare-bell blossoms shine,
O'er yon bleak and barren brae,
Let that brilliant eye of thine
Guide me on my lonely way.
Can ye lo'e me, &c.
Adxgio.
24
THE FLOWERS OF THE FOBEST.
Words byMrs.Cockburn of Ormiston— Died 1794.
Modern air.
rfcrp
I've seen the smi-ling of for -tune be-guil-ing, I've felt all its
^m&
m
'-0,-
5
:^.
II
fa - vours, and found its
^HiSHl^^if
Sweet was its bless - ing,
kind its ca-ress-ing, But now 'tis
fled, 'tis fled far a -way;
^ggjpppp^^JP8=Eg
I've seen the for - est a - dor - ned the fore - most, With flow-ers of the
=3?: =±r>s=f5=3:
eS
s
fair - est, mGst pica - sant and gay, Sae bonnie was their blooming, their
scent the air per - fum - ing, But now they are wither'd and are a' wede away.
I've seen the morning with gold the hills adorning,
And the dread tempest roaring before parting day ;
I've seen Tweed's silver streams
Glitt'ring in the sunny beams,
Grow drumlie and dark as they roll'd on their way.
O fickle fortune ! why this cruel sporting ?
O why thus perplex us, poor sons of a day ?
Thy frowns cannot fear me,
Thy smiles cannot cheer me,
For the Flowers of the Forest are withered away.
25
FOR HOME AND FOR LOVE.
^p=i=
iS
ES
m^EE^E^
How blythe-ly the pipe through Glen - ly - on was sound -inj
± f
^=?^=g
\—Z==*=£=$£:z±
morn when the clans to the mer-ry dance hied ; And gay were the love notes, o'er
H^S^^E!
HH3
hearts fond-ly bound-ing, When Ronald woo'd Flo - ra, and made her his bride.
But war's ban - ner streaming soon changed their fond dreaming, The bat - tie - cry
s=i=isi3=i^
£f£
=m^m
ec - ho'd a-round and a - bove ; Bright claymores were glanc - ing, and
=^==^^Trn-E^i
war-steeds were prancing, Up, Ron-aid, to arms for your home and your love I
Poor Flora awhile on his bosom hung sobbing,
But not to allure him from battle alarms ;
O heed not, she murmured, this poor heart's wild throbbing,
'Twould break e'er 'twould woo thee from fame to my arms.
Bless, bless thee, my dearest, when danger is nearest,
Those words and those tears my proud daring shall move ;
Where war-steeds are prancing and claymores are glancing,
I'll conquer or die for my home and my love.
All was hush'd on the hill where love tarried despairing,
With her bridesmaids still deck'd in their gay festal gear ;
And she wept as she saw them fresh garlands preparing,
That might laurel love's brow, or be strewed o'er his bier.
But cheer thee, dear maiden, each wild breeze is laden
With victory's slogan from mountain and grove ;
Where war-steeds were prancing and claymores were glancing,
Lord Ronald had conquered for home and for love.
26
With anir, :
THE MACGREGORS' GATHERING.
Words by Sir Walter Scott.
S3
S^^M^ipp^igij^g
is
The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae, And the clan has a name that is
nameless by day ; Our signal for fight, which from monarchs we drew, Must be heard but by
^=$^^=iE^=mmmm
night in our venge-ful ha-lool Then ha- loo! ha -loo! ha -loo! Gre-ga-lach.
Is — c~
Ill^=^=^p=ppil
•~:-:
^-c * c , E ^ V
If they rob us of name and pur-sue us with beagles, Give their roof to the
fep
:£*=*
?Mmm
-p— =1-
flame and their flesh to the eagles; Then gather, gather, gather,
^r3r^S^E=S=fe5^£3=FE3
Gather, gather, gather, Wliile there's leaves in the forest, and foam on the river, Mac-
JgJiiiBgg
m
gre-gor despite them shall
flourish for ev-er. Glenorchy's proud mountain, Col-
churn and her towers; Glen-strae and Glen-ly-on no longer are ours; We're landless,
land-less, land-less, Gre-ga-lach ; Land-less, land-less, land - - - less. Through the
v ^r-t, — — » * p-p — — g(-
depths of Loch-Katrine the steed shall career, O'er the peak of Benlomond the galley shall
^HH^ipIi^^^
steer, And the rocks of Craig Eoyston like i-ci-cles melt, Ere our wrongs be forgot or our
liieip§g^^3
-g
vengeance unfelt. Thenha-loo! ha-loo! ha-loo! Gre-ga-lach.
If they rob us of
27
^fe=^i=^^j=£Eg=^pfe^l^
name and pursue us with beagles, Give their roofs to the flame & their flesh to the eagles.Then
gather, gather, gather,
Gather, gather, gather, While there's leaves in the
gl^g^^Sg^^i
^EtEga
forest, and foam on the riv-er, Mae-gre-gor despite them shall flourish for ev-er.
MY NANNIE'S AWA'.
Words by Burns.
lambkins that bleat ower the braes, While birds war - ble wel - come in
il - ka green shaw; But to me it's de-light-3ess, my Nannie's a - wa\
But to me it's de - light - less, my Nannie's
The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn ;
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw !
They mind me o' Nannie — and Nannie's awa.
Thou laverock, that springs frae the dews of the lawn,
The shepherd to warn of the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa' ;
Give over for pity — my Nannie's awa'.
Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey,
And soothe me wi' tidings o' Nature's decay :
The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw,
A lane can delight me — my Nannie's awa'.
28
BONNIE BESSIE LEE.
^
i=d
fc^— £
^=^i|ppggg^
Bon-nie Bes-sie Lee had a face fa' o1 smiles, And mirtli round her ripe lips was
aye danc-ing slee, And light was the foot-fa' and win-some the wiles 0
^E=£=^*=j=£
flower
the par - o - chin,* our
sie Lee! Wi' the bairns she wad
rin, and the school lad-dies pake, t And o'er the broomy braes like a fai-rywad
^n^^=§§
flee, Till auld hearts grew younj
gain wi' love for her sake— There was
^^
3=pfes@
life in the bhthe blink o' bon - nie Bes - sie Lee. Our ain Bes - sie Lee, our
m
s^^^^m
bon-nie Bes-sie Lee, There was life in the blithe blink o' bon-nie Bes-sie Lee.
She grat wi' the waefu' and laugli'd wi' the glad,
And light as the wind 'niang the dancers was she ;
And a tongue that could jeer, too, the little lassie had,
Whilk keepit aye her ain side for bonnie Bessie Lee.
And she whiles had a sweetheart, and whiles she had twa,
A glaikit bit lassie — but, atween you and me,
Her warm wee bit heartie she ne'er threw awa',
Though mony a ane had sought it frae bonnie Bessie Lee.
But ten years had gane since I gazed on her last,
For ten years had parted my auld hame and me,
And I said to mysel' as her mither's door I pass'd,
" Will I ever get anither kiss frae bonnie Bessie Lee? "
But time changes a' things — the ill-natured loon !
Were it ever sae rightly he'll no let it be ;
♦Parish, t Beat.
20
But I rubbit at my een, and I thought I would swoon,
How the carle had come round about our ain Bessie Lee.
The wee laughing lassie was a gudewife growing auld, —
Twa weans at her apron and ane on her knee ;
She was douce, too, and wise-like— and wisdom's sae cauld : —
I would rather had the ither ane than this Bessie Lee.
From Robert Nicoll's Poems, published by Blackie & Son, 3S Queen-St. Glasgow,
permission."
0! ARE YE SLEEPING, MAGGIE?
By
pfe^N=pgilliEi
Mirk and rai-ny is tbe night, No a star'n in a' the car-ry;
£=£E3=i
ath - wart the lift, And winds drive wi' win - ter's fu - ry.
ght-nings gleam ath -wart the lilt, Ana wmas anve wr win - w
O! are ye sleep -ing, Mag-gie? 0! are ye sleep -ing, Mag - gie?
wpn^m
Let me in, for loud the linn Is roar -ing
Fearfu' soughs the boortree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie ;
Loud the iron yett does clank,
And cry o' howlets makes me eerie.
O ! are ye sleeping, Maggie ? &c.
Aboon my breath I daurna speak,
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie ;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek,
O ! rise, rise, my bonnie lady !
O! are ye sleeping, Maggie? &c.
She opt the door, she let him in ;
He coost aside his cheeping plaidie ;
Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.
Now since ye're waking, Maggie !
Now since ye're waking, Maggie !
What care I for howlet's cry,
For boortree bank, or warlock craigie.
30
THE MARRIED MAN'S LAMENT.
i^^g^f^
m
^=^
ance was
wan - ter as hap - py's a bee, I med - died wi'
Ills^i^lPNHJ^^f
*=fs:
m
m
nane and nane med-dled
me; I whiles liad a crack o'er a cog
^|=JEp^^gg^Ef:E^
:&LJ
gude yill, Whiles a hick - er o' swats, whiles a heart-heaz-ing gill. And I
g^M^E^I
aye had a groat if I had - na a pound, On this earth there was nane mei - kle
^Jlkp^^EliJbg
hap -pi-er found; But my auldmith-er died in the year auch - ty - nine, And I
(51
Plil^gil^llS
ne'er hae had peace in the wor - Id sin syne. My auld mith-er died in the
I
P^P-^i^
m
^
r * , y-^—r c r p .
year auch - ty - nine, And I ne'er hae had peace in the wor - Id
Fu' soun' may she sleep — a douce woman was she —
Wi' her wheel, and her cat, and her cuppie o' tea.
My ingle she keepit as trig as a preen,
And she ne'er speer'd questions as, where hae ye been ?
As, what were ye doing ? or wha was ye wi',
We were happy thegither, my mither and me.
But my auld, &c.
When mither was gane, for a while I was wae,
But a young chap was I, and a wife I wad hae ;
A wife I soon got, and I aye hae her yet,
An' the folks think thegither we unco weel fit,
But my ain mind hae I, tho' I daurna speak o't,
For mair than her gallop I like my ain trot.
But my auld, &c.
SI
When I wi' a crony am taking a drop,
Shell yammer and ca' me an auld drucken sot,
If an hour I bide out, loud she greets and she yowls,
And bans a' gude fellows, baith bodies and souls ;
And yet what a care she has o' her gudeman,
You'd think I was doated — I canna but ban.
But my auld, &c.
Now, my gilpie young dochters are looking for men,
I'll be a grandsire ere ever I ken ;
The laddies are thinking on ruling the roast ;
Their faither, puir body, 's deaf as a post ;
But he sees their upsetting, sae crouse and sae bauld ;
0, why did I marry, and wherefore grow auld.
But my auld, &c.
From Robert NicoU's poems, published by BlacMe & Sons. 38 Queen-St. Glasgow. By
permission.
THE BONNIE HOUSE 0' AIELIE.
lE^-S^3=£S§^3|pi=@=£
It fell up - on a clay, a bonnie summer clay, When the clans were a' wi'
a=gfe^y^^^^^ta
Charlie, That there fell out a great dis-pute Between Ar - gyle
ggpi^egg^ipga^pg
-v — J r
gyle has raised a hundred o' his men, To come in the morn-ing ear-ly, And
fci-
*=*
il?=i=gg
sii^s^&ispts^
~M~ ^ 1 '-e — e — ■ v— [r-
he has gane down by the back o' Dunkeld, To plunder the bonnie house o' Air -lie.
Lady Ogilvie look'd frae her high castle wa',
And O but she sighed sairly,
To see Argyle and a' his men
Come to plunder the bonnie house o' Airlie.
32
Come doon, come doori, lady Ogilvie, he cried,
Come doon and kiss me fairly,
Or ere the morning clear day light
I'll no leave a standing stane in. Airlie.
I wadna come doon, proud Argyle, she cried,
I wadna kiss thee fairly ;
I wadna come doon, thou false lord, she cried,
Tho' ye leave na a standing stane in Airlie.
But were my ain gude lord at hame,
As this night he's wi Charlie,
The false Argyle and a' his men
Durst na enter the bonnie house o' Airlie.
0 I hae born him seven bonnie sons,
The last ne'er saw his daddie,
And gin I had as mony o'er again
They'd a' be men to Charlie.
Argyle in a rage attacked the bonnie ha',
And his men to the plundering fairly,
And tears tho' he saw like dew draps fa',
In a lowe he set the bonnie house o' Airlie.
What lowe is yon ? quo the gude Lochiel,
That rises this morning sae early ;
By the God o' my kin, cried the young Ogilvie,
Its my ain bonnie hame o' Airlie.
Its no my bonnie hame, nor my lands a' reft,
That grieves my heart sae sairly,
Its for my winsome dame, and the sweet babes I left,
They'll smoor in the dark reek o' Airlie.
Draw your dirks, draw your dirks, cried the brave Lochiel,
Unsheath your swords cried Charlie,
And we'll kindle sic a lowe round the false Argyle,
And licht it wi' a spark out o' Airlie.
BELL AND BAIN, PRINTEE3.
33
THE SCOTTISH EMIGRANT'S FABEWEEL.
Words and Music by A. Hume.
^g^^^^^l
*=a=
Fareweel, fareweel, my na - tive hame, Thy lone - ly glens an' heath-clad
g u r
p^=L3^
grrg^i
kd^
m
fc±u
mountains; Fareweel thy fields o* stor - ied fame, Thy lea - fy shaws an'
ip
mm
l££p£
spark - lin' foun-tains. Nae mair I'll climb the Pent - lands' steep, Nor
o'er the deep, My
land, faro - weel for ev - er.
Thou land wi' love an' freedom crowned —
In ilk wee cot an' lordly dwellin'
May manly-hearted youths be found,
And maids in ev'ry grace excellin'.
The land where Bruce and Wallace wight,
For freedom fought in days o' danger,
Ne'er crouch'd to proud usurpin' might,
But foremost stood, wrong's stern avenger.
Tho' far frae thee, my native shore,
An' toss'd on life's tempestuous ocean ;
My heart, aye Scottish to the core,
Shall cling to thee wi' warm devotion.
An' while the wavin' heather grows,
An' onward rows the windin' river,
The toast be " Scotland's broomy knowes,
Her mountains, rocks, an' glens for ever."
c
34
DUET :— I THINK OF THEE.
Composed by A. Hume.
{Affetuoso. mf I think of thee when some sweet song is breath-ing, A - wak'-ning
thoughts of ear - ly hap -py days; Whenfai-ry hope its bright-est flowers was
wreathing, And seem'd the future one unclouded blaze. Oft does some
f rail. P
5E=g— rg::
(pUSl^glipl
song, some olden song, thus sounding, Thrill o'er the mind like music o'er the
the spell 1 think of thee. I think of thee. I think of thee.
p J T\
?i^^^l3=^=3=g^=^^
35
I think of thee when spring wakes smiling nature,
When birds sing sweetly and when flowers are bright.
When pleasure gladdens every living creature,
And sunshine bathes the earth and sea in light.
And when the rainbow springs, its glory throwing
O'er cloud and storm, to bid their darkness flee ;
And all is bright and beautiful and glowing,
Like one that I could name, — I think of thee.
Words by Burns.
WANDERING WILLIE.
wa', there a - wa\ wan - der - in' Wil - lie, Here a - wa\
ain on - ly dear - ie, Tell me, thou bring'st me my Wil - lie the same.
Win - ter winds blew loud an' cauld at our part - ing, Fears for my
TF-Hf n m r • ffifl
Willie brought tears in my e'e; Welcome now sim-mer, and welcome my
U**?* J3li-J^PPE|
Wil - lie,
The sim-mer to na - ture, my Wil - lie to me.
Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers,
How your dread howling a lover alarms !
Wauken, ye breezes ! row gently, ye billows !
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.
But oh! if he's faithless, and minds nae his Nannie,
Flow still between us thou wide roaring main !
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
But dying, believe that my Willie's my ain !
AN THOU WERE MINE AIN THING.
^^^^^^^
ain thing,
I would love thee, I would love thee, An thoa
were mine ain thing, How dear - ly would I
thee.
Of race divine thou needs must be,
Since nothing earthly equals thee,
With angel pity look on rne,
Wha only lives to love thee.
An thou were mine ain thing, &c.
To merit I no claim can make,
But that I love, and for thy sake,
What man can do I'll undertake,
So dearly do I love thee.
An thou were mine ain thing, &c.
37
ATJLD ROBIN GEAY
■Words by Larly Ann Lindsay. Music by Rev. W. Leeves.
Introduction — " The Bridegroom Grat," (old air.)
rnr?, j-i r E_p^ j js| ra n=^m
When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame, And a' the
%r^-^ ;j l7m~r • n tf t F J r M
wea - ry warld to sleep are gane; The waes o' my heart fa' in
tt=
-p — ■ — M P — H r-*— i — • r i--J 1-
show - ers frae my e'e, While my guid - man sleeps sound by me.
= — g — E> — J p — ta ^__ „_. — =j g 1=^
Young Jam-ie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride, But sav-
J-. f. ft. f . j i ^=j^ut^^t^i^
ing a crown, he had nae-thing else be - side; To mak' the crown
mm
^gN^I
pound my Jam - ie gaed to sea, And the crown and the pound were
Jlglfe^^^^^gilp^EgE
baith for me. He had na been gane but a year and a day, When my
fa - ther brak' his arm, and the cow was stown a - wa'; My
i^Hpiiliil^^lS^i
mi - ther she fell sick, and my Ja - mie at the sea, And
m
Th C ■ £=gEEE3EEE£
raid Iio - bin Gray cam'
:fcjz^-rgi
court - ing to me.
38
My father couldna work, and my mither couldna spin ;
I toiled baith day and nicht, but their bread I couldna win ;
Auld Eob maintained them baith, and wi' tears in his e'e,
Said, Jenny, for their sakes, 0 marry me !
My heart it said na, for I look'd for Jamie back ;
But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack ;
The ship it was a wrack — why didna Jenny dee ?
0 why was I spared to cry, Waes me !
My father argued sair ; my mither didna speak ;
But she lookit in my face till my heart was like to break ;
Sae they gied him my hand, though my heart was at the sea,
And auld Robin Gray was guidman to me.
1 hadna been a wife a week but only four,
When, sitting sae mournfully at my ain door,
I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he,
Till he said, I'm come hame, love, to marry thee.
Oh, sair did we greet, and mickle did we say ;
We took but ae kiss, and we tore ourselves away :
I wish that I were dead ! but I'm no like to dee ;
Oh why did I live to say, Waes me !
I gang like a ghaist, and I downa care to spin ;
I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin ;
So I'll e'en do my best a guid wife to be,
For auld Robin Gray is a kind man to me.
The old air ("The Bridegroom Grat,") is here given as an introduction to the modern
music of the Rev. Mr. Leeves. The song was originally written for the former air.
LORD RONALD.
Ifj^^g^EEgj^^g^^^E;
O where hae ye been, Lord Ron - aid my son ? 0 where hae ye
heen, Lord Ron - aid, my son ? I hae heen wi' my sweetheart, mothers
make my hed soon, For I'm wea-ry wi' the hunt -ing, and fain would lie down.
39
What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son ?
"What got ye frae your sweetheart, Lord Ronald, my son ?
I hae got deadly poison, mother, make my bed soon,
For life is a burden that soon I'll lay down.
THE PAIRTIN'
Words and Music by A. Hume.
Ma - ry, dear -est maid, I leave thee, Hame, an' Men's, an' coun-try dear.
m^m^m^m
Ok! ne'er let our pair - tin' grieve thee, Hap-pier
^^P^gp«fe^
See yon bark sae proud - ly bound-ing, Soon shall bear me o'er the sea;
Hark! the trum-pet loud - ly sound - ing, Calls me far frae love an' thee.
Summer flow'rs shall cease to blossom,
Streams run backward frae the sea ;
Cauld in death maun be this bosom,
Ere it cease to throb for thee.
Fare thee weel — may ev'ry blessin'
Shed by Heav'n around thee fa' ;
Ae last time thy lov'd form pressin' —
Think o' me when far awa\
Cheerfulness— and Song.— If you would keep spring in your hearts, learn to sing._ There
is more merit in melody than most people are aware of. A cobbler who smoothes his wax-
ends with a song, will do as much work in a day, as one given to ill-nature would do in a
week. Songs are like sunshine, they run to cheerfulness to fill the bosom with such buoyancy
that, for the time being, you feel filled with June air, or like a meadow of clover in blossom.
40
WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME.
Hogg.
■*■ *= • *"
Come all ye jol - ly shep-herds that whis - tie through the glen, I'll
^^W^T^^
tell ye of a se - cret that courtiers din - na ken. What is the great-
g^^EEgg=gHEp^=^5EEJ^
est Miss that the tongue o' man can name ? Tis to woo a hon-nie las - sie
^^PH^H
when the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, when the kye comes hame, "Tween
r^r^^^=r-i=j=^.
B^£
S
the gloam - in' and the mirk, when the kye comes hame.
'Tis not beneath the burgonet, nor yet beneath the crown,
'Tis not on couch of velvet, nor yet on bed of down :
'Tis beneath the spreading birch, in the dell without a name,
Wi' a bonnie, bonnie lassie, when the kye comes hame.
Then the eye shines sae bright, the haill soul to beguile,
There's love in every whisper, and joy in every smile ;
O who would choose a crown, wi' its perils and its fame,
And miss a bonnie lassie when the kye comes hame.
See yonder pawky shepherd that lingers on the hill —
His yowes are in the fauld, and his lambs are lying still ;
Yet he downa gang to rest, for his heart is in a flame
To meet his bonnie lassie when the kye comes hame.
Awa' wi' fame and fortune — what comfort can they gie? —
And a' the arts that prey on man's life and libertie !
Gie me the highest joy that the heart o' man can frame,
My bonnie, bonnie lassie, when the kye comes hame.
41
BONNIE DUNDEE.
^^ammm
:p — W-
±=te
*=r-
^&s
^
To the Lords of Conven-tion, 'twas Claver-house spoke, Ere the King's Crown go
lillpillliilllli
down there are crowns to he broke. Then each ca - va - lier that loves
hon - our and me, Let him fol - low the Don-nets of Bon - nie Dun-
dee. Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come sad - die my
^jgjp^g^liiEB=a=^ii^
hor - ses, and call out my men ; Un-hook the west port, and let us gae
free, For it's up wi' the bon - nets of Bon - nie Dun-
Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street,
The bells they ring backward, the drums they are beat,
But the provost (douce man) said, "Just e'en let it be,
For the toun is weel rid o' that de'il o' Dundee."
Come fill up my cup, &c.
There are hills beyond Pentland, and lands beyond Forth,
, If there's lords in the south, there are chiefs in the north :
There are brave Duinnewassals three thousand times three,
Will cry " Hey for the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee."
Come fill up my cup, &c.
Then awa' to the hills, to the lea, to the rocks,
Ere I own a usurper I'll crouch with the fox ;
And tremble false whigs in the midst o' your glee,
Ye hae no seen the last o' my bonnets and me.
Come fill up my cup, &c.
c2
42
IS YOTJR WAR-PIPE ASLEEP, M'CEIMMAN %
Words by G. Allan. Music by Peter M'Leod.
Is your war-pipe a - sleep, and for ev - er, M'Crim-man? Is your
war-pipe a
sleep and for ev-er? Shall the pib - roch that wel-com'd the
foe to Ben - aer, Be hush'd when we seek the dark wolf in his lair, To
Tempo ... +t With animation.
give back our wrongs to the giv-er? To the raid and the onslaught our
4-
chief- tains have gone, Like the course of the fire-slaught their clansmen pass'd
-tt-rs -r— 1— !■! I ■ -1 r i E=±£i P~3
i; With the lance and the shield 'gainst the foe they have bound them, And have
ta'en to the field, with their vas-sals a-round them. Then raise your wild
slo - gan cry ! on to the for - ay ! Sons of the hea - ther hill,
pinewood, and glen! Shout for M' - Pher-son, M' - Leod, and the
Fine 2d verse.
Mor - ay, Till the Lo-monds re - ec - ho the chal-lenge a - gain.
43
Slow, with expression.
Youth of the dar-ing heart, bright be thy doom, As the bod-ings which
light up thy bold spi - rit now; But the fate of M' - Crim-man is
ing in gloom, And the breath of the grey wraith hath pass'd o'er his
brow; Vic - tor - ious in joy thou'lt re - turn to Ben-aer, And be
-fr-ft gl B—
clasped to the hearts of thy best be - lov'd there ; But M' - Crimman, M'
Ritard.
Crim-man, M' -Crim-man! nev - er, nev - er, nev - er, nev - er!
Wilt thou shrink from the doom thou canst shun not, M'Crimman ?
Wilt thou shrink from the doom thou canst shun not?
If thy course must be brief, let the proud Saxon know-
That the soul of M'Crimman ne'er quail' d when a foe
Bared his blade in the land he had won not,
Where the light-footed roe leaves
The wild breeze behind,
And the red heather bloom gives
Its sweets to the wind,
There our proud pennon flies,
And the keen steeds are prancing,
'Mid the startling war-cries,
And the war- weapons glancing.
Then raise your wild slogan- cry ! on to the foray !
Sons of the heather hill, pinewood, and glen !
Shout for M'Pherson, M'Leod, and the Moray,
Till the Lomonds re-echo the challenge again !
44
EISE ! RISE ! LOWLAND AND HIGHLANDMEN !
Words by J. Imlah. Music by Peter M'Leod.
-fr \r
Rise! rise! low-land and high-land-nien ! Bald sire to beard-less son,
each come, and ear - ly; Rise! rise! mainland and is - land-men, Belt on your
broad claymores— fight for Prince Char - lie. Down from the mountain steep-
le « a « . •_
Up from the val - ley deep— Out from the clach-an, the both - y, and
shiel - ing, Bu - gle and bat - tie-drum, Bid chief and vas - sal come,
Loud - ly our bag-pipes the pib - roch are peal-ing! Rise ! rise ! lowland and
high -land-men! Bald sire to beardless son, each come, and ear - ly ; Rise! rise!
a-?— *
^^=j-i^=s^i^^p^
main-land and is-landmen, Belt on your broad claymores-fight for Prince Charlie.
#
^
bl!pEI3I^=f
Men of the mountains! de-scen-dants of he-roes! Heirs of the fame and the
-fr-W— 1/ \. 1
hills of your fa-thcrs ; Say shall the Southron— the Sas - sen-acli fear us,
45
* — i—A
&E£
i^E
When to the war - peal each plaid - ed clan gath - ers ! Long on the
!=eE=EEi=^
f=£S=i=l
=fe
i^@
trophied walls Of your an - ces - tral halls, Rust hath heen blunting the
ar-mour of Al-hin ; Seize, then, ye mountain Macs, Buckler and hat - tie - axe,
Chorus.
Lads of Loch - a - her, Brae-mar, and Brae- dal - bin 1 Base! rise! low-land and
hiffh- land-men! Bald sire to beard-less son, each come, and ear - ly ; Rise ! rise !
mainland and is-land-men, Belt on your broad claymores— fight for Prince Char-lie.
When hath the tartan plaid mantled a eoward ?
When did the blue bonnet crest the disloyal?
Up, then, and crowd to the standard of Stuart,
Follow your leader — the rightful — the royal!
Chief of Clanronald,
And Donald Macdonald !
Come Lovat ! Lochiel ! with the Grant and the Gordon !
Rouse every kilted clan,
Rouse every loyal man,
Gun on the shoulder, and thigh the good sword on !
Rise ! rise ! lowland and highlandmen !
Bald sire to beardless son, each come, and early ;
Rise ! rise ! mainland and islandmen,
Belt on your broad claymores — fight for Prince Charlie !
This and the preceding song appear by the kind permission of Bcter M'Leod, Esq., from
his " Original Melodies."
Words by Robert L. Malone.
4G
NAEBODY KENS YE.
Music by Samuel Barr.
Are ye do - in' ought weel, are ye thriv-in*, my man? Be thank -fu' to
For -tune for a* that she sen's ye; Ye'll hae plen - ty o' fri en's aye to
mm^m0=m^
Sq^ &=£=:*:
--H
of - fer their han', When ye need- na their coun - ten-anee, a' bo - dy kens ye.
A' bo - dy kens ye, a' bo - dy kens ye. When ye need-na their
tide tak's a turn, An'
SZ^a tempo.
3=*
ipg^^=p=Hi^
to' wi' the ebb drift the fa-vours she
lento. s^ a tempo.
lends ye, Cauld friend-ship will then leave ye lane - ly to mourn; When ye
-> : K * t> -M * •"-' " • ■
need a' their friendship, then nae - bo - dy kens ye, Nae - bo - dy kens ye.
Kae - bo - dy kens ye. When ye need a' their friendship, then nae - bo - dy kens ye.
The crony wha stuck like a burr to your side,
An' vowed wi' his heart's dearest bluid to befriend ye,
A five guinea note, man, will part ye as wide
As if oceans and deserts were lyin' between ye.
Naebody kens ye, &c.
47 '
It's the siller that does't man, the siller, the siller,
It's the siller that break's ye, an' mak's ye, an' men's ye;
When your pockets are toom, an' nae wab i' the loom,
Then tak' ye my word for't, there's naebody kens ye.
Naebody kens ye, &c.
But think nae I mean that a' mankind are.sae,
It's the butterfly Men's that misfortune should fear aye,
There are friends worth the name, Guid sen' they were mae,
Wha, the caulder the blast, aye the closer draw near ye.
They bodies ken ye, &c.
The frien's wha can tell us our fau'ts to our face,
But aye frae our faes in our absence defen's us,
Leeze me on sic hearts ! o' life's pack he's the ace,
Wha scorns to disown us, when naebody kens us.
They bodies ken ye, &c.
The music of this song appears by the kind permission of the gifted composer ; and the
words from that excellent repository of modern Scottish songs, "Whistle Binkie," by per-
mission of the publisher.
HERE'S A HEALTH TO SCOTIA'S SHORE.
Words by James Little.
Music by A. Hume.
With energy.
Sing not to me of sun - ny shores, Of verdant climes where olives bloom ; Where
still and calm the riv - er pours Its flood 'mid groves of sweet per - fume.
roar; As wild-ly on their course they dash, Then here's a health to Scotia's
short
Sing not to me of sunny isles,
Though there eternal summers reign ;
Though orange groves serenely smile,
And gaudy flow'rets deck the plain.
Give me the land of mountains steep,
Where wild and free the eagles soar,
The dizzy crags where tempests sweep,
Then here's a health to Scotia's shore.
Sing not to me of sunny lands,
For there full often tyrants sway ; [hands,
Who climb to power with blood-stained
While crouching, trembling, slaves obey.
Give me the land unconquered still,
Though often tried in days of yore ;
Where freedom reigns from plain to hill,
Then here's a health to Scotia's shore.
Words by W. Cameron,
0
43
MELLOW AND MERRY WE'RE A'.
Music by Mathew Wilson.
*=¥=\
*=£
S
fc=s
S
:F^=t^
:^
ri=^=S^ztd
0 mel-low and mer-ry we're a', we're a', 0 mel-low and merry we're
we're a'; Then fill up the bowl, and let each mer - ry soul, Sing
^^^^p^=^^^=j=E^
r±
mel - low and mer - ry we're a', we're a' ; Then fill up the bowl, and let
each mer - ry soul, Sing mel - low and mer - ry we're a", we're a'.
P * . P -& — FT
t£
i^^^S=p
+—b-
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The sun may gang hame o'er the bleak Ar - ran hills, While her ma - jes - ty
J
k
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^_^ :sz
[s K l-
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Ln - na may wane; Fill, fill up the gob - let, we'll quaff it a -gain. 0
Awa' wi' finesse and a' finical airs,
A truce to the world for it loads us wi' cares ;
No forgetting our hames, our dear lasses and wives,
To friendship devote this ae night o' our lives.
For sweet is the cup wi' a social few,
And dear to our heart is the friend that is true ;
Then friendship and truth be the bond of each soul,
And we'll pledge it again in a jovial bowl.
For mellow, &c.
49
MARY SHAW.
Music by William Morris.
>
3=fat
Si
Words by William Cameron.
> > > > >
-3:
Mild and mo-dest bon - nie las - sie, E'en sae
0' love an'
^m^g
i^jpjgp^
w^^^i
love thee, Ma - ry Shaw. Kind's the
heart that heaves thy bo - som, Pure the love that dwel-leth there, Fresh and
mmmmmmm^
sweet as Mayflowers' bios- som, Sweet, yes sweet, as A - pril air. Mild and
mo - dest bon - nie las - sie, E'en sae fu' o' love an' a', In - no-
^mm^M
?=a
cent and sweet young las - sie, 0,
love thee, Ma - ry Shaw.
Oft I've heard the songsters wild,
Warble round thy father's ha' ;
Singing gaily, sweetly, mild —
Surely 'twas for Mary Shaw.
Pleas'd I've listened to their chanting,
'Mong the planes' deep foliage green :
Mary, there was something wanting,
Thou wert wanting, lovely queen.
Mild, &c
Bowers of deepest shades are many,
Spreading planes, an' birds, an' a' ;
Lovers' walks as sweet as ony,
But there's no a Mary Shaw.
Meet me then, my soul's dear treasure,
Meet me where yon streamlets part ;
Come, sweet source of a' my pleasure,
Bless a faithfu' lover's heart.
Mild, &c.
50
OH, WHY DIDST THOU LEAVE MET
Words by W. Cameron. Music by Mathew Wilson.
The woods are a' joy -ous, while spring is re - stor - ing To lawn and to
-fr -* \T
de - plor - ing The hour that took Jam - ie a - wa' frae his Jean. The
hour that took Jam - ie
a' frae his Jean. Oh ! why didst thou
I
leave me in sad - ness and sor - row ? The pale moon now beam-ing o'er
moun - tain and sea, May rise in its brightness and beau - ty tc
mor - row, It brings nae my ain dear - est Jam - ie to
It brings nae my ain dear - est Jam - ie to me.
He sleeps in the dark and the deep caves of ocean,
The wild roaring tempest disturbs him no more ;
But oh ! what can soothe, now, my heart's deep emotion,
While weeping and hopeless I gaze on the shore.
Then why didst thou leave me ! ah ! why thus for ever?
Hid far frae thy Jean in the depths of the sea ;
0, Heaven be with me ! the billows will never
Eestore rnv dear Jamie to life and to me !
51
LADDIE, OH! LEAVE ME.
Words by J. M'Gregor.
Slcnv, with tender expression.
Down whar the bur-nie rins wim-plin' and chee - rie, When lore's star was
Lad -die, oh! leave me, leave me, leave me, Lad -die, oh Heave me.
" I've lo'ed thee owre truly to seek a new dearie —
I've lo'ed thee owre fondly through life e'er to weary—
I've lo'ed thee owre lang, love, at last to deceive thee —
Look cauldly or kindly, but bid me not leave thee.' '
Leave thee, leave thee, &c.
" There's nae ither saft e'e that fills me wi' pleasure—
There's nae ither rose-lip has half o' its treasure —
There's nae ither bower, love, shall ever receive me,
Till death breaks this fond heart, oh ! then I maun leave thee.'
Leave thee, leave thee, &c.
The tears o'er her cheeks ran like dew frae red roses —
What hope to the lover one tear-drop discloses,
I kissed them, and blest her, at last to relieve me,
She yielded her hand, and sighed, " Oh ! never leave me."
Leave me, leave me, &c.
62
HAIL TO THE CHIEF.
Words by Sir Walter Scott, from the " Lady of the Lake."
glan - ces, Flour -ish, the shel-ter and grace of our line! Heav'n send it
hap - py dew, Earth lend it sap a - new, Gai - ly to bour-
broad-ly to grow ; While ev' - ry high-land glen Sends our shout back a - gain,
^3=^£=j=g^lE=g
=*
Eode-rich Vich Al - pine dhu, ho!
* 3r-J
roe! Rode - rich! Rode - rich !
m
Rode -rich! Rode- rich 1 Rode-mh Vich Al - pine dhu, ho! ie - roe!
Ours is no sapling chance-sown by the fountain,
Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ;
"When the whirlwind has stript ev'ry leaf on the mountain,
The more shall Clan Alpine exult in her shade.
Moor'd in the rifted rock,
Proof to the tempest shock ;
Firmer he roots him the ruder it blows ;
Monteith and Breadalbin, then,
Echo his praise again,
Roderich Vich Alpine dhu, &c.
Bow, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands !
Stretch to your oars for the ever green pine !
O ! that the rosebud that graces yon islands
Were wreath' d in a garland around him to twine!
53
0 that some seedling gem,
Worthy such noble stem,
Honour'd and bless'd in their shadow might grow.
Loud should Clan Alpine, then,
King from her deepmost glen,
Eoderich Vich Alpine dhu, &c.
Words by W. Cameron.
BONNIE ANNIE.
Music by J. A. May.
fgfppEgsgj
ig—j-^Jl
Nae flow'-ry braes in na-tare's pride, Spread round my bon - nie Annie's
/7\ ad lib.
ggpg
ms^m
-& — Q — V — *~ ' "~ * — r
hame ; Nae ba - zel dells by bur-nie's side, To sing wi' my dear An-nie's name
jjgfSgg^fep^g^sfe
But An -nie is a bonnie lass, The bonniest lass that e'er I saw; 0 An -nie
is the kind - est lass, And
dear - est to my heart of a'.
She has twa een sae bonnie blue,
Sae bonnie blue, sae clear and bright j
They're like twa shining draps o' dew,
Or like twa beaming stars o' night.
O Annie is a bonnie lass, &c.
Her sweet wee mou' — a bonnie mou',
Sae temptin', — O I would be fain
To steal frae her a kiss I trow,
And fondly wish her a' my ain.
For Annie is a bonnie lass, &c.
Aye when I sleep, and when I wake,
My thoughts are like the troubled sea-
And O, I fear, my heart will break,
If Annie love, but love nae me.
For Annie is a bonnie lass, &c.
54
JOHN GETJMLIE.
Lively.
John Granule swore by the light o' the moon, And the green leaves on the
tree, That he could do more work in a day, Than his wife could
do in three. His wife rose up in the mom-ing Wi' caves and
trou-bles e - now ; John Grum - lie hide at harae, John, And I'll go
haud the plow. Sing-ing fal de lal lal de ral lal, fal lal lal lal lal
la. John Gram -lie hide at hame, John, And I'll go haud the plow.
" First ye maun dress your children fair,
And put them a' in their gear ;
And ye maun turn the malt, John,
Or else ye'll spoil the beer.
And ye maun reel the tweel, John,
That I span yesterday ;
And ye maun ca' in the hens, John,
Else they'll a' lay away."
Singing, fal de lal lal, &c.
O he- did dress his children fair,
And he put them a' in their gear ;
But he forgot to turn the malt,
And so he spoiled the beer.
And he sang aloud as he reel'd the tweel
That his wife span yesterday ;
But he forgot to put up the hens,
And the hens a' lay'd away.
Singing, fal de lal lal, &c.
The hawket crummie loot down nae milk ;
He kirned, nor butter gat ;
And a' gaed rang, and nought gaed right ;
He danced with rage, and grat.
Then up he ran to the head o' the knowe,
Wi' mony a wave and shout —
She heard him as she heard him not,
And steered the stots about.
Singing, fal de lal lal, &c.
John Grumlie's wife cam hame at e'en,
And laugh'd as she'd been mad,
When she saw the house in siccan a plight,
And John sae glum and sad.
Quoth he, "I gie up my housewifeskep,
I'll be nae mair gudewife."
" Indeed," quo' she, " I'm weel content,
Ye may keep it the rest o' your life."
Singing, fal de lal lal, &c.
55
" The deil be in that," quo' surly John, " Stop, stop, gudewife, I'll haud my tongue,
" I'll do as I've dune before." I ken I'm sair to blame,
Wi'thatthegudewifetookupastootrung, But henceforth I maun mind the plow,
And John made off to the door. And ye maun bide at hame."
Singing, fal de lal lal, &c.
HURRAH! FOR THE THISTLE.
"Words by Alexander Maclagan.
With spirit, g
Music by John TurnbulL
Oar- rah! for the this - tie, the bon - nie Scotch this - tie, The e-vergreen
351
this -tie of Scot -land for me; A - wa' wi' the flow'rs in your
la - dy- built bow'rs, The strong-bearded, weel-guar - ded this - tie for me.
Tis the flow'r the proud ea - gle greets in his flight, When he sha-dows the
is it blows, For the great -er the tem-pest the green -er it grows.
•# D.C.
Round the love-lichted hames o' our ain native land —
On the bonneted brow, on the hilt of the brand,
On the face of the shield, 'mid the shouts of the free,
May the thistle be seen where the thistle should be !
Hurrah ! for the thistle, &c.
Hale hearts hae we yet to bleed in its cause ;
Bold harps hae we yet to sound its applause ;
How then can it fade, when sic chiels an' sic cheer,
And sae mony braw sprouts o' the thistle are here ?
Then hurrah ! for the thistle, &c.
50
DTJNOIS THE BRAVE, or PARTANT POTTR IA SYRIE.
The Words translated from the French hy Sir Walter Scott; the Music by
Hortense Beauhamais, ex-Queen of Holland, and mother of
the present Emperor of the French.
e^Efe^
±q-
+=*-+■
:rf:i—
It was Dun-ois the young and brave, Was bound for Pa-les-tine, But
PP
may prove the brav - est knight, And love the fair - est fair. That
GE^gE^ES^^l
I may prove the brav - est knight, And love the fair - est
His oath of honour on the shrine,
He grav'd it with his sword ;
And follow'd to the Holy Land
The banner of his Lord.
Where faithful to his noble vow,
His war-cry filled the air ;
" Be honour'd aye the bravest knight,
Be lov'd the fairest fair ! "
They owed the conquest to his arm,
And then his liege lord said,
The heart that has for honour beat,
By bliss must be repaid.
My daughter Isabel, and thou,
Shall be a wedded pair,
For thou art bravest of the brave,
She fairest of the fair.
And then they bound the holy knot,
Before Saint Mary's shrine,
That makes a paradise on earth,
If hearts and hands combine.
And every lord and lady bright,
That were in chapel there,
Cried " Honour'd be the bravest knight,
Be loved the fairest fair."
Note.— Sir Walter Scott says that " the original made part of a MS. collection of French songs
found on the field of Waterloo, so much stained with clay and blood as sufficiently to indicate
the fate of its owner." This is at present the French national air.
57
KIND ROBIN LO'ES ME.
-rs-1-TT
i^ppi^Ej^^^
^
Ro-bin is my on - ]y jo, For Ro - bin has the art to
s^pg^^^^^i^i
lo'e, So to his suit I mean to how, Be - cause I ken he
gug^^gg^^H^^
lo'es me. Hap - py, hap - py was the show'r, That led me to his
hirken how'r, Where first of love I fand the pow'r, And kenn'd that Robin lo'ed me.
They speak of napkins, speak of rings,
Speak of gloves and kissing strings,
And name a thousand bonnie things,
And ca' them signs he lo'es me.
But I'd prefer a smack o' Eob,
Sporting on the velvet fog,
To gifts as lang's a plaiden wab,
Because I ken he lo'es me.
But little kens she what has been
Me and my honest Rob between,
And in his wooing, O so keen
Kind Robin is that lo'es me.
Then fly, ye lazy hours, away,
And hasten on the happy day, [say,
When "Join your hands," Mess John shall
And mak' him mine that lo'es me.
He's tall and sonsy, frank and free,
Lo'ed by a', and dear to me;
Wi' him I'd live, wi' him I'd dee,
Because my Robin lo'es me !
My sister Mary said to me,
Our courtship but a joke wad be,
And I, or lang, be made to see
That Robin cliclna lo'e me.
Till then let every chance unite,
To weigh our love, and fix delight,
And I'll look down on such wi' spite,
Wha doubt that Robin lo'es me.
0 hey, Robin, quo' she,
O hey, Robin, quo' she,
0 hey, Robin, quo' she,
Kind Robin lo'es me.
58
DUET— TWILIGHT O'ER THE VALE.
Composed by A. Hume.
EZETTM
>/ Twi-light o'er the vale is steal - ing, Watchful stars their sta-tions take !
Hark! the vil-lage hells are peal-ing O'er the calm un - ruf - fled lake. O'er the
^^^^^^^S
calm, unruffled lake. "With stea-cly oar We leave the shore, And o'er the
p
ly at ' e - veil - tide, Mer - ri - ly, mer - ri - ly, mer - ri - ly, mer-
59
Now with joyous hearts returning,
Ev'ning shades again appear ;
See the lamp of night is burning,
Mirror' d on the waters clear.
With steady oar, &c.
MY MITHER'S AYE GLOW'EIN' OWRE ME.
My mither's aye glow'rin' owre me, Though she did the same be-
L_£_.
fore me ; I can - na get leave To look at my love, Or_ else she'd be
like to d* - vour me. Right fain wad I tak' your of - fer, Sweet
hut I'll tine my toch - er; Then San - dy you'll fret, And
wyte your poor Kate, When - e'er you look in your toom cof - fer.
For though my father has plenty Tutor my parents wi] caution ;
Of silver and plenishing dainty, Be wylie in ilka motion ;
Yet he's unco sweir Brag weel o' your land,
To twine wi' his gear ; And there's my leal hand,
And sae we had need to be tenty. Win them, I'll be at your devotion.
My mither's, &c My mither's, &c.
BESS THE GAWKIE.
Bly the young Bess to Jean did say, Will ye gang to yon
g^^^g=g=3=Jlg^=sfeEgpg
sun - ny brae, Where flocks do feed, and shep- herds stray, And sport a-
:zj==jg
m^=mmm=m=m
while wi' Jam - ie. Na, na, dear lass, we'll no gang there, Nor
yet o' Jam - ie hae a care, We'll tak' a walk
ith - er where, For he's taen up wi' Mag - gie.
For hark, and I will tell you, lass,
Did I not see your Jamie pass,
Wi' muckle blytheness in his face,
Gaun owre the muir to Maggie.
I wat he gae her mony a kiss,
And Maggie took them no amiss ;
'Tween ilka smack pleased her wi' this,
That Bess was but a gawkie.
O Jamie, ye hae mony taen,
But I will never stand for ane
Or twa, when we do meet again,
Sae ne'er think me a gawkie.
Ah, na, na, lass, that canna be,
Sic thochts as these are far frae me,
Or ony thy sweet face that see,
Ere to think thee a gawkie.
For when a civil kiss I seek, [cheek, But whisht, nae mair o' this we'll speak,
She turns her head, and thraws her For yonder Jamie does us meet,
And for an hour she'll scarcely speak,
Wha'd not ca' her a gawkie?
But sure my Maggie has mair sense,
She'd gie a score without offence,
Sae gie me ane into the mends,
And ye sail be my dawtie.
Instead of Meg he kiss'd sae sweet,
I trow he likes the gawkie.
0 dear, young Bessie, is this you?
1 scarcely kenn'd your gown sae new,
I think you've got it wat wi' dew,
Says Bess, "That's like a gawkie.
61
" It's wat wi' dew, and will get rain,
And I'll get gowns when it is gane,
Sae ye may gang the gate ye came,
And tell it to your dawtie."
The guilt appeared on Jamie's cheek,
He cried, "O cruel maid, but sweet,
If I should gang anither gate,
I ne'er could meet my dawtie."
The lasses fast frae him they flew,
And left puir Jamie sair to rue,
That ever Maggie's face he knew,
Or yet ca'd Bess a gawkie.
As they gaed owre the muir they sang,
Till hills and dales wi' echoes rang,
And Jamie heard it wi' a pang,
" Gang owre the muir to Maggie."
THERE WAS A LAD WAS BORN IN KYLE.
E^^^diip
— tf — ' — sJ a «:? — " - ^» • ■ «*^
There was a lad was born in Kyle, But what-na day, o
what-na style, I doubt it's hard - ly worth the while To be sae
wi' Eo - bin. For Ro - bin was a rov - in' boy, A
piiiigiiiiiiiiii
rov - in
boy; 0
an - tin , rov - in*
Our monarch's hindmost year but ane
Was five-and-twenty days begun,
'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' win'
Blew hansel in on Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c.
The gossip keekit in his loof,
Quo' scho, wha lives will see the proof,
This waly boy will be nae coof,
I think we'll ca' him Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c.
He'll hae misfortunes great and sma',
But aye a heart aboon them a';
He'll be a credit till us a',
We'll a' be proud o' Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c.
But sure as three times three mak' nine,
I see by ilka score and line,
This chap will dearly like our kin',
So leeze me on thee, Robin.
For Robin was a rovin' boy, &c
62
WITHIN A MILE OF EDINBXJKGH TOWN.
Music by Mr. James Hook.
Twas with -in a mile of E - din - bu - rgh town, In the ro - sy
time of the year; Sweet flow - ers bloom'd and the grass was down, And
each shepherd woo'd his dear. Bonnie Jockie, blythe and gay, Kiss'd young Jenny
mak - ing hay; The las - sie blush'd, and frowning cried, " Na, na, it win - na
^ J* P expressive
I can - na, can-na, win-na, win - na, maun-na buckle to.
Young Jockie was a wag that never wad wed,
Though lang he had followed the lass ;
Contented she earn'd and ate her brown bread,
And merrily turned up the grass,
Bonnie Jockie, blythe and free,
Won her heart right merrily :
Yet still she blushed, and frowning cried, "Na, na, it winna do ;
I canna, canna, winna, winna, maunna buckle to."
But when h,e vow'd he wad make her his bride,
Though his flocks and herds were not few,
She gie'd him her hand and a kiss beside,
And vow'd she'd for ever be true.
Bonnie Jockie, blythe and free,
Won her heart right merrily :
At kirk she no more frowning cried, "Na, na, it winna do;
I canna, canna, winna, winna, maunna buckle to."
63
THERE LIVES A YOUNG LASSIE FAR DOWN IN YON GLEN.
Words by John Imlali. Music by Joseph de Pinna.
There lives a young las - sie far down in yon glen ; And I lo'e that
faith -fu' I'll be; For weel I lo'e Ma-ry, and Ma - ry lo'es me.
white as the gow - an, her breast and her brow ; Wi' the foot of a
-|7 f
fai - ry, she links o'er the lea.
tempo,
weel I lo'e Ma - ry, and
Ma-ry lo'es me. There lives a young las - sie far down in yon glen; And
For weel I lo'e Ma-ry,
ry, but faith-fu" I'll
She sings sweet as ony wee bird of the air,
And she's blithe as she's bonnie, she's guid as sha's fair
Like a lammie as airy and artless as she,
0 ! weel I lo'e Mary, and Mary lo'es me.
There lives a young lassie, &c.
ry lo'es me.
64
MUIRLAND WILLIE.
mt&^^^m
^p^^
0 hearken and I will tell you how Young Muirland Wil - lie cam' here to
Sqbfifc^fc
l^p3
:3=3*
£z-££
&
ifrc
S
woo, Tho' he could nei - ther say nor do; The truth I tell to
But aye he cries, whate'er betide, Mag-gie I'se hae
he my bride, With a
fal da ra, fal lal da ra la, fal lal da ra lal da ral la.
On his gray yade as he did ride,
Wi' dirk and pistol by his side,
He prick'd her on wi' meikle pride,
Wi' meikle mirth and glee,
Out o'er yon moss, out o'er yon muir,
Till he cam' to her daddie's door,
With a fal da ra, &c.
The maid put on her kirtle brown ;
She was the brawest in a' the town,
I wat on him she didna gloom,
But blinkit bonnilie.
The lover he stended up in haste,
And gript her hard about the waist,
With a fal da ra, &c.
Gudeman, quoth he, be ye within? The maiden blush' d and bing'd fu' law,
I'm come your dochter's love to win, She hadna will to say him na,
I carena for making meikle din ; But to her daddie she left it a',
What answer gi'e ye me ? As they twa could agree.
Now wooer, quoth he, would ye light down, The lover gi'ed her the tithcr kiss,
I'll gi'e ye my dochter's love to win, Syne ran to her daddie, and telTd him this,
With a fal da ra, &c. With a fal da ra, &c.
Now, wooer, sin' ye are lighted down,
Where do ye won, or in what town ?
I think my dochter winna gloom,
On sic a lad as ye.
The wooer he stepp'd up the house,
And wow but he was wond'rous crouse,
With a fal da ra, &c.
The bridal day it came to pass,
Wi' mony a blithesome lad and lass ;
But siccan a day there never was,
Sic mirth was never seen.
This winsome couple straked hands,
Mess John ty'd up the marriage bands,
With a" fal da ra, &c.
05
BONNIE WOOD OF CRAIGIELEE.
Words by Tannahill. Music by James Barr.
JUoJeratt.
The broom, the brier, the birken bush, Bloom bonnie o'er thy flow'-ry lea; And
a' the sweets that ane can wish, Frae na - ture's hand are strewed on thee.
Thou bon - nic wood of Craig- ie - lcc, Thou bon-nle wood of Craig-ie - lee, Near
thee I've spent life's ear - ly day, And won my Ma-ry's heart in thee.
Far ben thy dark green plan tin's shade,
The cushat croodles am'rously ;
The mavis down thy bughted glade,
Gars echo ring frae ev'ry tree.
Thou bonnie wood, &c.
Awa' ye thoughtless murd'ring gang,
Wha tear the nestlings ere they flee ;
They'll sing you yet a canty sang,
Then, O, in pity, let them be!
Thou bonnie wood, &c.
When winter blaws in sleety show'rs,
Frae aft" the norlan' hills sae hie,
He lightly skiffs thy bonnie bow'rs,
As laith to harm a flow'r in thee.
Thou bonnie wood, &c.
Though fate should drag me south the line,
Or o'er the wide Atlantic sea,
The happy hours I'll ever min',
That I in youth hae spent in thee.
Thou bonnie wood, &c.
GG
A GTJID NEW YEAR TO ANE AN' A',
Words by P. Livingstone. SONG AND CHORUS. Composed by A. Hume,
Lively.
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an' a', An' mon-y may ye see; An'
dur - ing a' the years to come, 0 hap - py may ye he. An*
A guid New Year to ane an' a', An' mon - y may ye see ; Anr
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^f
A guid New Year to ane an' a', An' mon - y may ye see; AnT
A guid New Year to ane an' a', An' mon - y may ye see ; An"
dur -ing a' the years to come 0 hap -py may ye he.
C7
0 time flies fast, he winna wait,
My friend, for you or me ;
He works his wonders day by day.
And onward still doth flee.
O wha can tell when ilka ane,
I see sae happy here,
Will meet again an' merry be,
Anither guid New Year ?
A guid New Year, &c.
We twa hae baith been happy lang,
We ran about the braes ;
In yon wee cot beneath the tree,
We spent our early days.
We ran about the burnie's side,
The spot will aye be dear ;
An' those that used to meet us there
We'll think on mony a year.
A guid New Year, &c.
Now let us hope our years may be,
As gnid as they hae been ;
And trust we ne'er again may see
The sorrows we hae seen.
And let us wish that ane an' a',
Our friends baith far an' near,
May aye enjoy" in times to come
A hearty guid New Year.
A guid New Year, &c.
Words by Burns.
Lively.
BATTLIN', EOAKIN' WILLIE.
0 rat- tlin', roar -in* Wil-lie, 0 he held to the fair, An' for to sell
his fid-die And buy some i - ther ware ; But part - ing wi» his fid -die, The
saut tear blin't his e'e ; And rat - tlin', roar-in' Wil-lie, Ye're welcome hame to me.
0, Willie, come sell your fiddle,
O, sell your fiddle sae fine ;
0, Willie, come sell your fiddle,
And buy a pint o' wine.
If I should sell my fiddle,
The warl' would think I was mad,
For mony a rantin' day
My fiddle and I hae had.
As I cam' by Crochallan
I cannily keekit ben,
Eattlin', roarin' Willie
Was sittin' at yon boord-en'-
Sittin' at yon boord-en',
And amang guid companie ;
Eattlin', roarin' Willie,
Ye're welcome hame to me.
Con Sfirilo
68
THE FLAG OF BEITANNIA.
Words and Music by John Henderson.
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The flag of Bri -tan -nia, the pride of the free, Tri - um-phant it
float-eth o'er land and o'er sea ; And proud - ly it brav - eth the
bat - tie or blast, For -when tat-tered by shot it is nailed to
is by dis - hon-our's foul spot, While o - thers are sul - lied
has not
blot ; The cham - pion of free - dom, it
•7\
waves, And wher - ev - er 'tis hois - ted makes free - men of slaves. For
Ei:=(^BF-
nv=
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flag of Bri - tan - nia, the flag of the brave, Is
stan-dard that
-?— rar— :
■M-=^=zl=^=z^
1^1
nev - er can float o'er a slave; And proud - ly
it brav - eth
the
mast. When tat - tcred by
nailed to the mast.
G9
How the heart of each Briton does beat when on high
The flag of Britannia unfurls to the sky ;
And gloriously braveth the battlefield's sbock,
As the waves vainly dash on the storm-beaten rock.
There's many a banner hangs drooping its head,
For the strength that sustained it is nerveless and dead,
And the hearts that once followed it on to the field,
Left no kindred spirits its honour to shield.
But the flag of Britannia, the flag of the brave,
Triumphant it floateth o'er land and o'er wave;
And proudly it braveth the battle and blast,
For when tattered by shot it is nailed to the mast.
When tattered by shot it is nailed to the mast.
LOCK THE DOOE, LARISTON.
Words by the Ettiiek Shepherd.
Lock the door, Lar - is - ton, li - on of Lid - des - dale, Lock the door.
Lar - is - ton, Lou-ther comes on ; The Arm-strongs are fly - ing, The
wid-ows are cry -ing, The Cas-tletoun's burning, and 0 - li - ver'a gone.
Lock the door, Lar - is - ton, high on the vrea-ttier gleam, See how the
Sax - on plumes boh on the sky; Yeoman and car - bin - eer, Bil-man
-Uz=
^3?=?==i
iv - dier, Fierce is the for - ay, and far is the cry.
70
Bewcastle brandishes high his broad scimitar,
Ridley is riding his fleet-footed grey ;
Hidley and Howard there,
Wandell and Windermere ;
Lock the door, Lariston, hold them at bay.
"Why dost thou smile, noble Elliott of Lariston ?
Why does the joy-candle gleam in thine eye ?
Thou bold border ranger,
Beware of thy danger,
Thy foes are relentless, determined, and nigh.
Jock Elliott raised up his steel bonnet and lookit —
His hand grasped the sword with a nervous embrace ;
" Oh welcome, brave foemen,
On earth there are no men
More gallant to meet in the foray or chase.
" Little know you of the hearts I have hidden here,
Little know you of the mosstroopers' might,
Linhope and Sorbie true,
Sundhope and Milburn too ;
Gentle in manners but lions in fight.
" I have Mangerton, Ogilvie, Raeburn, and Netherbie,
Old Sim of Whitram and all his array ;
Come all Northumberland,
Teesdale and Cumberland,
Here at the Breaken tower end the affray."
Scowled the broad sun o'er the links o' green Liddesdale,
Bed as the beacon light tipt he the wold —
Many a bold martial eye
Mirror' d that morning sky,
Never more oped on his orbit of gold.
Shrill was the bugle's note, dreadful the warriors' shout,
Lances and halberts in splinters were borne,
Helmet and hauberk then
Braved the claymore in vain,
Buckler and armlet in shivers were shorn.
See how they wane, the proud file of the Windermere,
Howard, ah ! woe to thy hopes of the day,
Hear the rude welkin rend
While the Scots' shouts ascend: —
" Elliott of Lariston, Elliott for aye !"
With spirit.
71
ALLISTER MACALLXSTER,
a' a - stir, Get out your pipes and blaw wi' birr, "We'll dance the High-
land fling. Now Al - lis - ter has tun'd his pipes, And thrang as hum-bees
frae their bikes, The lads and las - ses loup the dykes, An' gath - er on
stir, Then to your bags and blaw wi' birr, We'll dance the Highland fling.
The miller Rab was fidgin' fain
To dance the Highland fling his lane ;
He lap and danced wi' might and main,
The like was never seen.
As round about the ring he whuds,
He cracks his thumbs, and shakes his dud*
The meal flew frae his tail in cluds,
And blinded a' their e'en.
Oh Allister, &c.
Neist rackle-handed smithy Jock,
A' blackened owre wi' coom and smoke,
Wi' bletherin', bleer-e'ed Bess did yoke,
That harum scarum quean.
He shook his doublets in the wind,
, His feet like hammers strak the grand,
The very mo udie warts were stunn'd,
Nor kenn'd what it could mean.
Oh Allister, &c
Now Allister has done his best,
And weary stumps are needin' rest,
Besides wi' drouth they're sair distress' d,
Wi' dancin' sae, I ween.
I trow the gauntrees got a lift,
An' round the bickers flew like drift,
An' Allister that very nicht
Could scarcely stand his lane.
Oh Allister, &c
0 BONNIE BLINKS THE GOWAN.
Words by James Reed. Music by A- Hume.
0 bon - nie blinks the gow - an on Scot-tia's heath'ry lea, And
blythe-ly does the this - tie wave up - on her hills sae free ; An*
sweet -ly down ilk haunt - it glen the sing - ing burn-ie's glide, 'Mang
woods be-neath whose spreadin' screen a slave could ne'er a - bide. But
the bon - nie lass lives there wha lo'es
I wadna tine my lassie's love for a' the world's gear,
Nor a' the ribbons, gems, and stars, ambition's minions wear ;
And though they fain would wile me far where gowd is to be won,
'Mang myrtle groves, and vine-clad fields, aneath a cloudless sun,
I canna leave my ain auld hame on Scotia's gladsome plain,
Though I could gather countless wealth ayont the roaring main ;
For what were a' the grovelling joys that gowd or pow'r could gie,
If shared na by the winsome lass that lo'es nae lad but me.
O brave he fights frae stain or blight to keep his country's fame,
Wha's breast to aid his patriot zeal burns wi' a lover's flame ;
And boldly will he face and cow oppression's highest pride,
Wha draws his sword alike to guard his freedom and his bride.
And ere a foreign despot rules my ain auld mither-land,
Or freedom's chaplet lose ae leaf by native tyrants' hand,
I'd rather that my life-blood dyed the gowan on her lea,
Though dear as life I haud the* lass that lo'es nae lad but me.
73
UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.
Words by John Hamilton.
Lively.
Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south, And drift is driv-in' sair - ly ; The
sheep are cow'r-ing in the heuch, 0 sirs, 'tis win - ter fair - ly.
Then up in the morn-ing's no for me, Up in the morn- ing ear-ly, I'd
ra-ther gae sup-per-less to my bed, Than rise in the morn-ing ear-ly.
Loud roars the blast among the woods,
And tirls the branches barely ;
On hill and house hear how it thuds !
The frost is nippling sairly.
Now up in the morning's no for me,
Up in the morning early ;
To sit a nicht wad better agree
Than rise in the morning early.
Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush :
Poor things, they suffer sairly ;
In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht ;
A' day they feed but sparely.
Now up in the morning's no for me,
Up in the morning early ;
A pennyless purse I wad rather dree
Than rise in the morning early.
The sun peeps owre yon southland hills A cosie house and cantie wife
Like ony timorous carlie,
Justs blinks a wee then sinks again
And that we find severely.
Now up in the morning's no for me
Up in the morning early ;
Aye keep a body cheerly
And pantries stowed wi' meat and drink,
They answer unco rarely.
But up in the morning — na, na, na !
Up in the morning early ;
When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek, The gowans maun glent on bank and brae,
Wha'd rise in the morning early ? When I rise in the morning early.
d2
74
inJET:-THE RECALL.
Tenor. p
Music by A. Hume.
Come a - gain, 0 come a - gain, Sun-shine com - eta af - ter rain.
^_, p gfc.
Come a - gain, 0 come a - gain, Sun-shine com - eth af - ter rain.
-n I 1st . i j 2d ^ \ P _ ** era.
^^g^^^^feSg^Eg^^l
Sun-shine com - eth af - ter rain. af - ter rain. As a lamp fed
new - ly hum - eth, Plea - sure who doth fly re - turn-eth, Scatt'-ring ev' - ry
new - ly hum - eth, Plea - sure who doth fly re - turn-eth, Scatt'-ring ev' - ry
cloud of pain. As the year which dies in show - ers, Ris - eth
cloud of pain. As the year which dies in show - ers, Eis - eth
75
Hi=pg^^i^=^^
in a world of flow - ers. Call'dbyman-y a ver - nal strain.
in a world of flow - ers. Call'd by man - y a ver - nal strain.
Call'dby man-y a ver-nal strain. Come thou for whom our tears are fal-ling,
And a thou-sand hearts are cal - ling, Come a - gain, Come a-
p Allegro.
gain, 0 come, come a - gain.
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Come a - gain, 0 come a - gain, Come a - gain, 0 come a - gain,
Come a - gain, 0 come a - gain, Come a - gain, 0 come a - gain,
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Come a - gain,
Come, come, O come a - gain, Come
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Come, come, a - gain, 0 come, come, come, O come again, Come a - gain, 0
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Come a - gain, 0 come a-gain, Come, come a - gain, 0 come a-
come again, Come a-gain. O come a-gain, Come, come a-gain, O come a-
gain, 0 come a - gain, Be thou the sun-shine af - ter rain, the
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sun - shine af - ter rain.
thou the sun-shine af - ter rain.
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sun - shine af - ter rain. Be thou the sun-shine af - ter rain
Tenderly,
DINNA THINK, MY BONNIE LASSIE.
Composed by A. Hume.
Din-na think, my bon - nie his - sie, That this heart can al - ter'd be;
A' its thoughts an' dreams, dear lassie, Are the thoughts an' dreams o' thee.
jg^fe^pfeg^^j^g^j
Sec yon ciys-tal stream -let wand'ring, Bids ilk bloom-ing flow'r re-joice;
cw rail.
Sweet to na - ture its me - an-d'ring, Sweeter far to me thy voice.
tempo.
Din - na think, my bon - nie las - sie, That this heart can al - ter'd be ;
^^^=g=g=fej
A' its thoughts an' dreams, dear las - sie, Are the thoughts an' dreams o' thee.
There sweet spring delights to linger, - • • • • =>
Causing bud an' bloom to shine ;
But in vain her sunny ringer,
Strives to paint sic charms as thine.
Dowie seems ilk op'nin' blossom,
When the sun withdraws a while ;
Wae, like them, becomes this bosom,
Absent frae thy gentle smile.
Dinna think, &c.
•8
MY TOCHER'S THE JEWEL
Words by Burns.
In moderate time.
0 mei - kle thinks my luve o' mybeau-ty, And mei-kle thinks my luve
o' my kin ; But lit - tie thinks my luve I ken brawlie, My toch-er's the
ii^i^^^ffil^
jew - el has charms for him. It's a' for the ap - pie he'll nour - ish the
tree, It's a' for the hin - ney he'll cher - ish the hee ; My lad-die']
mei - kle in love wi' the sil - ler, He can - na hae luve to spare for me.
Your proffer o' luve's an arle-penny, Ye're like to the timmer o' yon rotten wood,
My tocher's the bargain ye wad buy ; Ye're like to the bark o' yon rotten tree,
But an' ye be crafty, I am cunnin', Ye'll slip frae me like a knotless thread,
Sae ye wi' anither your fortune maun try. Andye'll crack your credit wi' mae nor me.
BRAW, BRAW LADS.
Moderately slow.
Braw, braw lads on Yar-row braes, Ye wan-der through the blooming hea-ther
But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick shaws, Can match the lads o' Gal-la water. Braw, braw lads.
79
But there is ane, a secret ane,
Aboon them a' I lo'e him better ;
And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
The bonnie lad o' Galla water.
Although his daddie was nae laird,
And though I hae na meikle tocher,
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
"We'll tent our flocks by Galla water.
It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure ;
The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
O, that's the chiefest warld's treasure !
Lively.
I'M OWRE YOUNG TO MARRY YET.
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I'm owre young, I'm owre young, I'm owre young to mar
tEg?EE^EJHfegEfe^E^
mm
sae young, 'twad he a sin To tak' me frae my mam-my yet.
EpgJJF^ggjg
wm
I am my mam-my's ae bairn, Nor of my hame I'm wea - ry yet ; And
will have you learn, lads, That ye for me maun tar - ry yet. For I'm, B.C.
For I have had my ain way,
Nane daur to contradict me yet ;
Sae soon to say I wad obey,
In truth, I daurna venture yet.
For I'm, &c.
Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind
Blaws through the leafless timmer, Sir ;
But if ye come this gate again,
I'll aulder be gin simmer, Sir.
For I'm, &c.
80
0 VOW TO ME, SALLY.
Words by William Cameron. Music by Matthew Wilson.
vow to me, Sal - ly, dear Sal - ly, that nev - er
g^if^^^gM^--^4^^^^
r
o-ther's lore e'er shall thy ho - som con
trol; Art
thou not my
own love, he - troth - ed
ev - er, The pride of
3s:
my heart and
Be-lieve not the smil-ing, and heed not the scorn-ing, That fond ones, ad-
And 0, let the noon - tide of
bliss be
for
We loved when we knew not that love was the feeling,
We felt and we lived for each other alone ;
And now that our hearts the soft truth is revealing,
I know, dearest Sally, thou still art my own.
Yes, yes, my own loved one, then wilt thou forgive me,
And wipe that blest tear from thy love-speaking eye I
One word from my lips, dearest Sally, believe me,
Shall never again cause thy bosom a sigh.
81
THE WEE, WEE GERMAN LAIRDIE.
Wha the deil liae we got - ten for a kins, But a wee, wee German
Lairdie ; When we gaed ower to bring him hame, He was delvin' in his kail - yar-die-
iiw^fi
t=3tg
t? *=-
Ile was sheuglung kail, and lay - ing leeks, With-oufc the hose, and hut the
hreeks, And up his beg - gar duds he cleeks, Tins wee, wee Ger- man Lair- die.
And he's clappit down in our gudeman's chair,
The wee, wee German Lairdie ;
And he's brought fouth o' his foreign trash,
And dibbled them in his yardie.
He's pu'd the rose o' English loons,
And broken the harp o' Irish clowns ;
But our Scotch thistle will jag his thumbs,
This wee, wee German Lairdie.
Come up amang our Hieland hills,
Thou wee, wee German Lairdie,
And see the Stuart's lang kail thrive,
They hae dibbled in our kail-yardie.
And if a stock ye daur to pu',
Or haud the yokin' o' a plough,
We'll break your sceptre ower your mou',
Ye feckless German Lairdie.
Auld Scotland, thou'rt ower cauld a hole,
For nursin' siccan vermin ;
But the very dogs in England's court,
They bark and howl in German.
Then keep thy dibble in thy ain hand,
Thy spade but and thy yardie ;
For wha the deil now claims your land,
But a wee, wee German Lairdie.
82
DUET:— 0 GIN MY LOVE.
Arranged as a Duct by Alexander Hume. The first verse is from Herd's MS., the other
was AYritten by Burns.
1st _ -v
^ffetuoso. 0 gin my loye were yon red rose, That grows up - on yon cas - tie
^^^^«
0 gin my love were yon red rose, That grows up - on yon cas - tie
wa', An' I my-sel' a drap o' dew, In - to her bon - nie breast to fa'.
0 there be-yond ex - pres-sion blest, I'd feast on beau - ties a' the night; Seal'd
' lliliiiili
O there be-yond ex -pres-sion blest, I'd feast on beau -ties a' the night ; Seal'd
a' tl
on her silk saft faulds to rest, Till fley'd a - wa' by Phoe - bus' flight
O were my love yon lilac fair,
Wi' purple blossoms to the spring,
And I a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing —
How would I mourn when it was torn,
By autumn wild and winter rude ;
But I wad sing on wanton wing,
When youthfu' May its bloom renewed
83
THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.
With animation.
Bon-nie las-sie, will ye go To thebirks of A - ber - fel - dy ? Now
-tc-
sim-mer Winks on flow' - ry braes, And o'er the crys -_tal streamlet plays : Come
let us spend the light-some days In the birks of A - ber - fel - dy.
The little birdies blythely sing,
While o'er their heads the hazels hing ;
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldy.
The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep roaring fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.
Thy hoary cliffs are crowned wi' flowers,
"While o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And, rising, weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldy.
Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae 1.
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.
84
" WE'LL HAE NANE BUT HIGHLAND BONNETS HEBE."
Respectfully inscribed to Sir Colfri Campbell,
By Alexander Maclagan.
At the decisive charge on the heights of Alma, when the Guards were pressing on to share
the honour of taking the first guns with the Highlanders, Sir Colin Campbell, cheering on
his men, cried aloud, "We'll have none but Highland bonnets here!" How these heroic
words acted upon his brave followers is well known.
Extracts of Letters from the Crimea.— Camp before Sebastopol, 24th August, 1855.
Many thanks for Mr. Maclagan's war songs you so kindly sent. "We'll hae nane but Highland
Bonnets here" is excellent, and we never tire singing it in the camp.— John Joiner, Quarter-
master, 93d Highlanders.
Camp before Sebastopol, August 4, 1855.— Dear Sir,—" We'll hae nanebut Highland Bonnets
hei'e" is highly appreciated in the camp of the 93d Highlanders, and was sung with great
enthusiasm both in the tents and in the trenches. I can assure you it will long be a favourite
song in our regiment, and the whole Highland Brigade. It was sung by many a poor fellow
by the camp fires in the last dreadful winter nights, when one would think that singing was
not in their hearts. You cannot think how cheering it is to the soldier fighting for his native
land, when singing the songs of dear auld Scotland!— Pt. Robert Sinclair No. 2 Company d'3U
Highlanders. — Mr. Alexander Maclagan.
thunder' d through the ch.arg.-ing cheer, We'll hae nane but High -land
Chorus.
bon-nets here. We'll hae nane but High -land
^
F=t
in
bon-nets here, We'll hae
IPS
:.S
nane but High -land bon-nets here. It thun - der'd through the charg-ing
^S
:£=*:
cheer, We'll hae
but High - land
bon - nets here.
85
See, see the heights where fight the brave !
See, see the gallant tartans wave !
How wild the work of Highland steel,
When conquered thousands backward reel.
See, see the warriors of the north,
To death or glory rushing forth !
Hark to their shout from front to rear,
" We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here ! "
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here !
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here !
Hark to their shout from front to rear,
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here!
Braver field was never won, "" .'. "~
Braver deeds were never done ;
Braver blood was never shed,
Braver chieftain never led ;
Braver swords were never wet !
With life's red tide when heroes met !
Braver words ne'er thrilled the ear,
" We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here ! "
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here !
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here !
Braver words ne'er thrilled the ear,
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here !
Let glory rear her flag of fame,
Brave Scotland cries " This spot I claim ! "
Here will Scotland bare her brand,
Here will Scotland's lion stand!
Here will Scotland's banner fly,
Here Scotland's sons will do or die!
Here shout above the "symbol dear,"
"We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here ! "
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here!
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here!
It thundered through the charging cheer,
We'll hae nane but Highland bonnets here !
This song is the first of a series of twelve on the present war by the same author. Copies
with Pianoforte acompaniraents, price one shilling, can be had at David Jack's, Gl Jamaica
Street, Glasgow.
85
[Two Songs from a poetical work in the press entitled "Metrical Memories of the War.'
Scem—Soldiei's singing in the camp the night before the Battle of Inker mann.]
Blame not the uncouth melodies,
From nature's holy source upheaving;
That mingled with the keen wind's sighs,
Regret and grief alike relieving.
Nor scorn the untrained minstrel's art,
Ere he rush to the conflict, telling
The honest love of a noble heart,
In the pathos of Erin swelling.
0 AILEEN, DEAR AILEEN.— THE IRISHMAN'S SONG.
"Words by James Reed.
Andante.
Music by John Fulcher.
0 Ail - een, dear Ail-een, thy im - age doth rest, Like a star in the
gloom of my des - tin - y here, And the rno-ment when last you re-
clined on my breast, As the un - cloud-ed hour of our meet-ing is
dear, And ev - er while life in my bo - som is swel-ling, Let
1=Se£SSe§^3
suff'rings as - sail me or dan-gers be - set, Thy love, dearest Ail-een, all
sad-ness dis - pel - ling, The heart of your sol-dier will nev-er for -get.
My Aileen, my own one ! the grief-shadows now,
Blight the joy-flow'rs that bloom'd on thy beautiful check
And the heart-sorrow dims the pure light of thy brow,
As the cloud of the eve does the rose-blossom streak.
But though I have wander'd from thee far away, love,
Where hardship, and suff'ring, and danger beset;
In battle's fierce day still, our love's early ray still,
The heart of your soldier will never forget.
87
Oh Aileen, my lov'd one, for Erin and thee,
Alone do I seek for the soldier's bright name ;
My bride and my country my watchwords will be,
And guide to the conquest of honour and fame.
Old Ireland's renown I will ever maintain, dear,
Though hardship, and suffering, and danger beset ;
And love's tender reign, dear, in joy or in pain, dear,
The heart of your soldier will never forget.
The brave gallant names of my father-land fire me,
Those patriot bands without blemish or stain ;
The deeds they achieved for their freedom inspire me,
And faithful and true I will ever remain.
Should my blood in the conflict the heath-flow'r embue, dear,
Dishonour will never my death hour beset ;
For still I'll be true, dear, to freedom and you, dear,
And ne'er will my bosom thy image forget.
No recreant will that soldier prove,
"Within whose valiant hreast
The gentle thoughts of woman's love,
With warlike ardours rest.
And to the creed thus simply told,
Erin's young soldier bowed,
As e'er did Paladin of old,
To war and beauty vowed.
And as the low-breath'd love-fraught strain
Amid the darkness died;
A wayward youth from border plain,
In like low tones replied.
'Twas strange in that dark hovel drear,
With war's impending horrors near,
Those homely doric tones to hear,
Or list the vocal flow
Of sad, but sacred, homelove blent,
With chivalrous and bold intent,
And thoughts on deadly conflict bent,
And battle's wildest throe.
THE BOEDER RIFLEMAN'S SONG.
Words by James Reed.
Music by John Fulcher.
When I left our auld glen the young gow - ans were springing, The
lav'rocks an' lin - ties their first love lilts sing-ing, An' the wee mer-ry
ro-bin be- side our door stane, Sang a chant o' de- light that the
88
win - ter wa3 gane. There was glad-ness and glee a - mong bird, beast, and
rail.
rr\ /7s
r — f — *—-" — * — r
men, When the slo - gan of free - dom rang through our auld glen; There was
- gan of free - dom rang through our auld glen.
I was wilfu', and wild, and licht-hearted, and free,
Nae frolic or revel was held without me ;
Life was bricht as the lift on a clear summer day,
Nae fears or dejection to darken its ray ;
An' the love o' my Peggy had just blest me, when
The proud slogan o' freedom rang through our auld glen.
Clear and loud peal'd the sound, owre heath, valley, and wold,
An' our border lads raise like their grandsires of old,
When ilka peel turrit its beacon light bore,
They changed their herds' crook for the spear or claymore.
Nought dismay' d them, or stay'd them, or daunten'd them, when
The proud slogan o' freedom rang through our auld glen.
Though my father looked stern, I kent weel he was sad,
An' my mither grat sair for her ne'er-do-weel lad;
An' through the dim tears o' my Peggy's blue e'en,
The light o' her heart-love could hardly be seen.
I fand nae misgiein', nae heart sinkin', when
The proud slogan o' freedom rang through our auld glen.
Nor yet will I yield, though the path to renown,
An' the wreath of distinction, an' victory's crown,
Has been bloody an' lang, an' may bloodier be
Ere another day's dawn on the hill taps we see.
I will fight for my country as cheerfu' as when
The proud slogan o' freedom rang through our auld glen.
89
TAM GLEN.
Words by Burns.
fe^^J^slgp^p
My heart is a - breaking, dear tit-tie! Some coun-sel un - to me come
m
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^E
m
3^^z=f=j=s^^m
len"; To an - ger them a' is a pi - ty,
what win I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm think -in* wi' sic' a braw
^^i^g
t==tz
fal - low, In poor - tith I might mak' a fen'j What care I in
rich - es to wal - low, If I maun-na mar - ry Tam Glen.
There's Lowrie, the laird o' Drumeller, My (laddie says, gin I'll forsake him,
" Gude day to you," coof, he comes ben; He'll gie me gude hunder merks ten j
He brags and he blaws o' his siller, But, if it's ordain'd I maun tak' him,
But when will he dance like Tam Glen? O wha will I get but Tam Glen ?
My minnie does constantly deave me, Yestreen, at the valentines dealin',
And bids me beware o' young men ; My heart to my mou' gied a sten';
They natter, she says, to deceive me — For thrice I drew ane without failin',
But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen? And thrice it was written — Tain Glen,
The last Halloween I was waukin'
My drookit sark sleeve, as ye ken ;
His likeness cam' up the house staukin',
And the very gray breeks o' Tam Glen.
Come, counsel, dear tittie, dont tarry;
I'll gie ye my bonnie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen-
0 NANNY WILT THOU GANG WI' ME?
Words t>y Thomas Percy. Music by Thomas Carter.
flaunt - ing town? Can si - lent glens have charms for thee, The
ppi|pligi|ppi|
Say, canst thou quit each court - ly scene, Where thou wert
fair - est
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Of the fair;
Say, canst thou quit each court - ly scene, Where
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thou wert fair - est of
the fair ? Where thou wert fairest, Where
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wert fair -est. Where thou wert fair -est of the fair?
O Nanny ! when thou'rt far awaj',
Wilt thou not cast a wish behind ?
Say, canst thou face the scorching ray,
Nor shrink before the wintry wind ?
O can that soft and gentle mien
Extremes of hardship learn to bear;
Nor, sad, regret each courtly scene,
"Where thou wert fairest of the fair ?
0 Nanny ! canst thou love so true,
Through perils keen wi' me to go ;
Or when thy swain mishap shall rue,
To share wi' him the pang of woe ?
Say, should disease or pain befall,
Wilt thou assume the nurse's care ;
Nor, wistful, those gay scenes recall,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair ?
91
And when at last thy love shall die,
Wilt thou receive his parting breath ;
"Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh,
And cheer with smiles the bed of death ?
And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay
Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear;
Nor then regret those scenes so gay,
Where thou wert fairest of the fair?
Words by Burns.
FOR THE SAKE 0' SOMEBODY.
My heart is sair, I daur-na tell, My heart is sair for some -bo - dy;
I could wake a win - ter night, For the sake o' some - bo - dy.
Oh hon,
for some - bo - dy ! Oh hey, for some - bo - dy !
poeo rail. __ /z\ p a tempo. /^
I could range the world a - round, For the sake o' some - bo - dy!
Ye powers that smile on virtuous love,
0 sweetly smile on somebody !
Frae ilka danger keep him free,
And send me safe my somebody.
Oh hon, for somebody !
Oh hey, for somebody !
1 wad do — what wad I not ? —
For the sake o' somebody.
02
CAM' YE BY ATHOLT
Words by James Hogg.
Jfk
Music by Neil Gow.
banks o' the Gar - ry ? Saw ye the lads wi' their bon - nets an*
rhite cockades, leav - ing their mountains to fol - low Prince Char-lie.
Fol - low thee, fol - low thee, wha wad - na fol - low thee ? Lang hast thou
fol -low thee? King o' the High-land hearts, bon - nie Prince Char-lie.
I hae but ae son, my gallant young Donald ;
But if I had ten they should follow Glengarry ;
Health to Macdonald and gallant Clanronald,
For these are the men that will die for their Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, &c.
I'll to Lochiel and Appin, and kneel to them ;
Down by Lord Murray and Roy of Kildariie ;
Brave Mackintosh, he shall fly to the field with them ;
These are the lads I can trust wi' my Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, &c.
Down through the Lowlands, down wi' the whigamore,
Loyal true Highlanders, down wi' them rarely ;
Ronald and Donald drive on wi' the braid claymore,
Over the necks of the foes of Prince Charlie.
Follow thee, follow thee, &c.
93
TAK' YOUR AULD CLOAK ABOUT YE.
In win - ter when the rain rain'd cauld, And frost and snaw on
il - ka hill ; And Bor-eas wi' his blasts sae bauld, Was threat'ning a' our
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kye to kill. Then Bell, my wife, wha lo'es nae strife, She said to me right has- ti-
eracendo /^ ' '
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r>a — P~
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ly, Get up, gudeman, save Crummie's life, An' ta-k' your auld cloak a-hout ye.
]tfy Cmmmie is a usefu' cow,
An she is come o' a glide kin' ;
Aft has she wet the bairns' mou',
An' I am laith that she should tyne.
Get up, gudeman, it is fu' time,
The sun shines in the lift sae high ;
Sloth never made a gracious end,
Gae, tak' your auld cloak about ye.
My cloak was anco a gude gray cloak,
When it was fitting for my wear;
But now it's scantly worth a groat,
For I hae worn't this thretty year.
Let's spend the gear that we hae won,
We little ken the day we'll die;
Then I'll be proud, sin' I hae sworn
To hae a new cloak about me.
In days when gude king Robert rang,
His trews they cost but half-a-croun :
He said they were a groat owre dear,
And ca'd the tailor thief and loon.
He was the king that wore the croun,
An* thou' it a man of laigh degree ;
It's pride puts a' the country doun ;
Sae tak your auld cloak about ye.
Ilka land has its ain lauch,
Ilk kind o' corn has it's ain hool :
I think the world is a' gane wrang.
When ilka wife her man maun rule.
Do ye no see Rob, Jock, and Hab,
How they are girded gallantlie,
While I sit hurklin i' the ase ?
I'll hae a new cloak about me !
Gudeman, I wat it's thretty year
Sin' we did ane anither ken ;
An' we hae had atween us twa
Of lads an' bonnie lasses ten ;
Now they are women grown an' men,
I wish an' pray weel may they be ;
An' if you'd prove a gude husband,
E'en tak your auld cloak about ye.
Bell, my wife, she lo'es nae strife,
But she wad guide me if she can ;
An' to maintain an easy life,
I aft maun yield, though I'm gudeman.
Nocht's to be won at woman's han',
Unless ye gie her a' the plea ;
Then I'll leave aff where I began,
An' tak' my auld cloak about me.
94
THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.
Old song, altered by Burns.
There grows a ton - nie brier bush in our kail-yard ; And white are the
blossoms o't in our kail -yard; Like wee bit white cock - ades for our
loy - al Hieland lads ; And the
lo'e the brier bush in our kail - yard.
But were they a' true that are far awa' ?
Oh ! were they a' true that are far awa'?
They drew up wi' glaiket Englishers at Carlisle ha',
And forgot auld frien's when far awa'.
Ye' 11 come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye hae been;
Ye' 11 come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye hae been;
Ye lo'ed owre weel the dancin' at Carlisle ha',
And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'.
He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me,
He's comin' frae the North that's to fancy me,
A feather in his bonnet, and a ribbon at his knee ;
He's a bonnie Hieland laddie, and you be na he.
ANNIE LAURIE.
Max-well-ton braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew, And it's there that Annie
Lau - rie Gie'd me her pro-mise true, Gi'ed me her pro-mise true, Which
^P-pL-frg
^H^^lp
ne'er forgot will be, And for bonnie An - nie Lau-rie I'd lay me down and dee.
05
Her brow is like the snaw-drift,
Her neck is like the swan,
,Her face it is the fairest
That e'er the sun shone on —
That e'er the sun shone on,
And dark blue is her e'e ;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lav me down and dee.
Like dew on the gowan lying
Is the fa' o' her fairy feet ;
And like winds in summer sighing,
Her voice is low and sweet —
Her voice is low and sweet,
And she's a' the world to me ;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and dee.
THE MARINER'S CHILD.
Words by Miss L. E. Landon. Music by John Henderson.
0
weep no
more, dear
mo-ther,
0
weep no
more
to-
"p-pZZft- p Qn-
^B
night, But on - ly watch the sea, mo - ther, be - neath the morn-ing's
deep, And I know your grief, sweet mother, though I on - ly
rail. , — >(r\ a tempo con spirito.
SiSSH^
hear you weep; But the sun-ny morn is joy-ful, and the bright blue
sky is clear, And I can see, sweet mo-ther, to wipe a - way thy tear.
My father's ship will come, mother, in safety o'er the main,
When the grape is djred with purple he will come back again ;
He will guide the stately vessel though the sea be dark and drear,
Another week of sunshine, my father will be here :
Then I'll watch with thee, sweet mother, but the stars fade from my sight ;
Oh come and sleep, dear mother, we'll watch no more to-night.
90
SWEET MAY.
Words by J. Little.
Tenderly.
±
Music by A. Hume.
wel-come to May, Sweet May, That are smil - ing to wel-come sweet May.
The white blossom'd thorn sheds its richest perfume,
And the primrose looks bonnie and gay ;
And the sweet little blue-bells in modesty bloom,
And the birds sing a welcome, a welcome to May,
Sweet May,
And the birds sing a welcome to May.
Then come, dearest Mary, we'll roam to and fro,
Where the clear wimplin' burnie does play ;
And I'll sing you the songs that you loved long ago,
When first we went wand' ring, went wand'ring in May,
Sweet May,
When first we went wand'ring in May.
Bomember the days when in your native land,
'Mid the dim forest glades we did stray,
When Ave saw the young maidens come forth in a band,
To gather sweet roses for May,
Sweet May,
To gather sweet roses for May.
I looked on the flowers that were blooming around,
And bending so graceful and gay ;
Then I gazed in your face, dearest Mary, and found
You the loveliest, loveliest fiow'r of sweet May,
Sweet May,
You're the loveliest flow'r of sweet May.
97
THE SPINNING WHEEL.
Jean sat at her spin-ning wheel, A bon - me lad - die he pass'd by, She
animated J*^ ;>_
d round an
nessien.
turn - ed round an' view'd him weel, For oh ! he
With expression.
Ian - cin' e'e, Her
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pant-ing heart be-gan to feel, But aye she turn'd her spinning wheel.
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- Her panting heart be - gan to feel, But aye she turn'd her spin - ning wheel.
Her snow-white hands he did extol,
He prais'd her fingers neat and small,
Her snow-white hands he did extol,
He prais'd her fingers neat and small ,
He said there was nae lady fair,
That ance wi' her he could compare :
His words into her heart did steal,
But aye she turn'd her spinning wheel.
His words into her heart did steal,
But aye she turn'd her spinning wheel.
He said, Lay by your rock, your reel,
Your win'ings, and your spinning wheel,
He said, Lay by your rock, your reel,
Tour win'ings, and your spinning wheel ;
He bade her lay them a' aside,
And come and be his bonnie bride ;
An' oh, she lik'd his words sae weel,
She laid aside her spinning wheel.
An' oh, she lik'd his words sae weel,
She laid aside her spinning wheel
98
DUET:— AH! CHLOEIS, COULD I NOW BUT SIT.
Sir Charles Sedley, 1675. Air— Gilderoy.
Air.— W.th feeling.
Bass. All ! Chlo - ris, could I
now
but
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sit
as un - con-cern'd as
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Ah ! Chloris, could I now but sit as un - con-cern'd as
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when
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in - fant beau - ty could
get no
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When I this dawn-ing did ad-mire, and
hap - pi - ness nor pain. When I this dawn-ing did ad-mire, and
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I lit - tie thought that
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99
Tour charms in harmless childhood lay as metals in a mine;
Age from no face takes more away than youth concealed in thine ;
But as your charms insensibly to their perfection prest,
So love as unperceived did fly and center' d in my breast.
My passion with your beauty grew, while Cupid at my heart
Still as his mother favour'd you, threw a new flaming dart ;
Each gloried in their wanton part, to make a beauty, she
Employed the utmost of her art, — to make a lover,' he.
JOCKEY'S TA'EN THE PAIETIN' KISS.
Burns.
A little lively.
Jock-ey's ta'en the part - in' kiss, O'er the moun - tains he is gane;
^E^M
7T—fc
J I- 1 U
iS^^
And with him is
my Lliss, Nought but griefs with me re - main.
fcrfir^
^
Spare my love, ye winds that hlaw, Plash-y
and beat-ing raini
fc*;
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Spare my love, thou feath' - ry snaw, Drift-ing o er the fro - zen plain.
When the shades of ev'ning creep
O'er the day's fair, gladsome e'e,
Sound and safely may he sleep,
Sweetly blythe his wauk'ning be.
He will think on her he loves,
Fondly he'll repeat har name;
For where'er he distant roves
Jockey's heart is still at hame.
100
Words by James Little.
Cheerfully.
SCOTTISH LASSES.
SONG AND CHORUS. Music by William Lewis.
=S
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SB^^^g^^gg^spff^Q^epiE
Come, lads, and round the ta-ble sit, Nor look sae dowf and eer-ie, 0; What
4=1=
tho' mis -for -tune glooms a bit, Let's try and aye be cheer - ie, 0.
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Come let as sing a can - tie sang, To soothe the cares that fash us, O; Since
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Heav'n, to cheer us on this earth, Has blest us wi' the las - ses, 0.
Chorus.
We've sung auld Sco-tia's heath-er hills, That a' the lave sur - pass - es, 0 ; We've
2d Voice.
WeVe sung auld Sco-tia's heath-er hills, That a' the la
0 ; WeS
Si
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We've sung auld Sco-tia's heath-er hills, That a' the lave sur - pass - es, 0;We'va
B^ECTSI
sung her glens, her moun-tain rills, An' noo we'll sing her lass -
i^^^llil^ip
sung her glens, her moun-tain rills, An' noo we'll sing her
es, 0.
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— i> — i \7 ^ — i b- 1 i-~~H— l rt-i— ■ ■—
sung her glens, her moun-tain rills, An" noo we'll sing her
-es, 0.
101
What joy, when ye come hame at e'ei.,
Wi' toil and trouble weary, 0,
To sit beside a bonnie quean,
And ca' her aye your dearie, 0.
What joy to pree her hinny mou,
Rich as the rose in blossom, 0 ;
And then unseen to mortal view,
To strain her to your bosom, 0.
Chorus — We've sung auld Scotia's heather hills, &c.
I've seen the maids o' Erin's Isle,
And English lasses mony, 0,
But yet they want the winning smile,
O Scotland's lasses bonnie, O.
Then lay aside your cares a wee,
And fill your empty glasses, 0,
A bumper gie them — Three times three,
A uld Scotia's bonnie lasses, 0 !
For we hae sung her heather hills,
That a' the lave surpasses, 0 ;
Her thistle, lakes, her mountain rills,
And noo we'll sing her lasses, 0.
BUMPER NAE MAIR.
Words by Alexander Maclagan. Air adapted from an old melody.
Tho' the sun's in the sea, lads, the moon drown'd in drift, Tho' stormy clouas
JL • • m r
|S fe . _f>
m — \r—=f — V-
b=^=J *_.
p P—
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dark-en the lichts o* the lift; 0' the cauld blasts o' life we can
aye bear our share, The strong-est, the long - est,— we bum-per nae mair!
^m^^^^^^^^^^m
Bum-per nae mair! bumper nae maiH^Hje strongest, the longest,— we bumper nae mair
102
Though the feck o* mankind are a fause fickle set,
Why should we break down, lads, though whiles we may get
Baith the heels o' a frien' and the frowns o' the fair,
Let the licht feathers flee, lads, we'll bumper nae mair. — Bumper, &c.
When guilt and oppression mak's richt bow to wrang,
When virtue fa's faint, lads, and tyrants get Strang,
When freedom's bauld banner droops laigh in despair,
We can draw to defend, though we bumper nae mair. — Bumper, &c.
Come fortune wi' favours, the sweetest ye hae,
Come sad disappointment, as sour as a slae,
But grief's glooming troop o' fell darkness we dare,
When we stick to our pledge, lads, and bumper nae mair. — Bumper, &c.
Our fond hearts can beat, and our glad souls can glow,
Wi' love's purest fire, though the wine may not flow;
We can still help a frien', and, to lichten his care,
Tak' his pack on our back, though we bumper nae mair Bumper, &c.
Then let us rejoice in this fair world o' ours,
Though there's plenty o' rank weeds, there's some bonnie flow'rs,
And a kind sunny heart mak's the darkest day fair,
Sae stick to your pledge, lads, and bumper nae mair — Bumper, &c.
TWA BONNIE MAIDENS.
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There are twa bon-nie maid-ens, and three bon - nie maid - ens, Cam' owre the
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Minch, and cam' owre the main, Wi' the wind for their way, and the
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cor - rv for their hame, And they are dear - ly wel-come to Skye a - gain.
103
Come a -long, come a - long, wi' your boat -ie and your song, My ain bon - nie
maid -ens, my twa bon-nle maid-ens, For the night it
red -coat is gone, And ye are dear-ly wel - come to Skye a - gain.
There is Flora, my honey, sae dear and sae bonnie,
And ane that's "sae tall, and sae handsome withal ;
Put the one for my king, and the other for my queen,
And they are dearly welcome to Skye again.
Come along, come along wi' your boatie and your song,
My ain bonnie maidens, my twa bonnie maidens;
For the Lady Macoulain she "dwelleth her lane,
And she'll welcome you dearly to Skye again.
Her arm it is strong, and her petticoat is long,
My ain bonnie maidens, my twa bonnie maidens ;
The eea moullit's nest 1 will watch o'er the main
And ye are bravely welcome to Skye again.
Co.ne along, come along, wi' your boatie and your song
My ain bonnie maidens, my twa bonnie maidens ;
And saft sail ye rest where the heather it grows best,
And ye are' dearly welcome to Skye again.
There's a wind on the tree, and a ship on the sea,
My ain bonnie maidens, my twa bonnie maidens,
Your cradle I'll rock on the lea of the rock,
And yell aye be welcome to Skye again.
Come along, come along, wi' your boatie and your son;
My ain bonnie maidens, my twa bonnie maidens ;
Mair sound sail ye sleep as ye rock o'er the deep,
And ye'll aye be welcome to Skye again.
104
DUET:— HE'S OWRE THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL,
1st Voice. With animation.
§=g^S^^£^3
He's owre the hills that I lo'e weel, He's owre the hills we daurna name; He's
2d Voice.
Si
He's owre the hills that I" lo'e weel, He's owre the hills we daurna name ; He's
S
^^^=^|
-JLi— |-
=3mG= =
owre the hills a - yont Dumhlane, Wha soon will get his wel-come hame.
owre the hills a - yont Dumblane, Wha soon will get his wel-come hame,
p&5=&3E£=&=g£=2=m
±±
53
?=*=
My fa-ther's gane to fight for him, My brith-ers win - na hide at hame, My
My fa-ther's gane to fight for him, My brith-ers win - na bide at hame, My
;g£gii££NN
mith - er greets and prays for them, And 'deed she thinks they're no to blame.
^_- » - » my » v v ■
mith - er greets and prays for them, And 'deed she thinks they're no to blame.
He's owre the hills, &c.
The whigs may scoff, and the whigs may jeer,
But ah ! that love maun be sincere,
Which still keeps true whate'er betide,
And for his sake leaves a* beside.
105
He's owre the hills, &c. He's owre the hills, &c.
His right these hills, his right these Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,
plains, Sae gallant and bold,sae young and sae fair ;
O'er Highland hearts secure he reigns; Oh ! did ye but see him, ye'd do as we've
What lads ere did, our laddies will do ; done ;
Were I a laddie, I'd follow him too. Hear him but ance, to his standard ye'll run.
DUET:-ROW WEEL, MY BOATIE, ROW WEEL.
1st Voice. With feeling. R, A. Smith.
^fe^^^Jg^l^P^^
Row weel, my t»oat-ie, row weel, Row weel, my mer-ry men a'; For there'!
2d voice.
55SS3
EH
*==*=*:
-r
^-h:
F5i
?t3=^
Row weel, my boat- ie, row weel, Row weel, my mer-ry men a' ; For there's
-f > — ' — v — t— E — I ^-v — ■ — v-
dule and there's wae in Glenfiorich's bow'rs, And there's grief in my father's
^^^Ef=j=£3E£=p
4=t
in Glenfiorich's bow'rs, And there's grief in my father's ha'.
dule and there's
^gPF^jg=pg
^E
— fc±=fe
And the skiff it danc'd light on the mer-ry wee waves, And it flew o'er the
And the skiff it danc'd light on the mer-ry wee waves, And it flew o'er the
wa-ters sae blue; And the wind it blew light, and the moon it shone
wa-ters sae blue; And the wind it blew light, and the moon it shone
E 2
106
bright, But the boat - ie ne'er reaeh'd Al - Ian - dim. Och - on, for fair
bright, But the
^ ^ v ' - ^-g-
ie ne'er reach'd Al - Ian - dim. Och - on, for fair
El - len, Och - on, Och - on, for the pride of Strath - coe ; In the
El - len, Och - on, Och - on, for the pride of Strath - coe ; In the
deep, deep sea, in the saut, saut bree, Lord Re -och, thy El -len lies low.
deep, deep sea, in the saut, saut bree, Lord Re - och, thy El - len lies low.
DUET:— LOGIE 0' BUCHAN.
Peter Buchan ascribes this song to George Hacket, schoolmaster at Rathen, Aberdeenshire
who died in 1756.
1st Voice.
6~ Lo - gie o' Buch - an, 0 Lo - gie the laird, They hae ta'en a - wa'
2d Voice.
0~ Lo-gie o' Buch -an, 0 Lo - gie the laird, They hae ta'i
A:
J Ja-mie that delv'd in the yard. Wha play'd on the pipe, and the vi - ol sa
Ja-mie that delv'd in the yard. Wha play'd on the pipe, and the vi - ol sae
107
sma', They hae ta'en a-wa' Ja -mie the flow'r
them a'. He said, Think nae lang
pg^^^^^^^g^i^^p^
sma', They hae ta'en a-wa' Ja-mie the iiow'r o' them a'. He said, Think nae lang
m^m$^
The simmer is eomin', cauld winter's awa', An' I'll come and see thee, in spite o' them a'.
ji&rt r i^^H j u m rt rWuu=u
The simmer is comin', cauld winter's awa', An' I'll come and sec thee, in spite o' them a',
Tho' Sandy has ousen, has gear, and has kye,
A house and a haddin, and siller for bye ;
Yet I'd tak' my ain lad wi' his staff in his hand,
Before I'd hae him wi' his houses and land. — He said, &c.
My daddy looks sulky, my minny looks sour,
They frown upon Jamie because he is poor ;
Though I like them as weel as a dochter should do,
They're nae hauf so dear to me, Jamie, as you. — He said, &c
I sit on my creepie and spin at my wheel,
And think on the laddie that lo'ed me sae weel;
He had but ae saxpence, he brake it in twa,
And he gied me the half o't when he gaed awa'. — He said, &c.
108
WIILIE WT HIS WIG A-JEE.
Words by William Chalmers. Music by T. S. GleadhilL
Ob, saw ye Wil-lie frae the west? Oh, saw ye Wil-lie in his glee?
Oh, saw ye Wil-lie frae the west, When he had got his wig a - jee?
There's "Scot's whahae wi' Wal- lace bled," He towers it rip in sic a key, Oh,
ye Wli-lie, hear-ty lad, When he had got his wig a -jee.
To hear him sing a canty air,
He lilts it o'er sae charmingly,
That in a moment aff flies care,
When Willie gets his wig a-jee,
Let drones croon o'er a winter night,
A fig for them, whate'er they be,
For I could sit till morning light,
Wi' Willie and his wig a-jee.
At kirk on Sundays, sic a change
Comes o'er his wig, and mou', and e'e,
Sae douse — you'd think a cannon ba'
Wad scarce ca' Willie's wig a-jee.
But when on Mondays he begins,
And rants and roars continually,
Till ilk owk's end, the very weans
Gang daft — when Willie's wig's a-jee.
109
ILKA BLADE 0' GRASS KEPS ITS AIN DRAP 0' DEW.
Words by James Ballantine. Music adapted by the late John Wilson.
ye
aye in Pro-vi-dence, for Pro - vi-dence is kind,
bear ye a' life's chan-ges wi' a calm and tran-quil mind; Tho'
:fir=g£^-f»==p— »:
press'd and hemm'd on ev* - ry side, ha'e faith an' ye'll win through, For
il - ka blade o'
grass keps its
drap o' dew.
Gin reft frae friends, or cross'd in love, as whiles nae doubt ye've been,
Grief lies deep hidden in your heart, or tears flow frae your e'en ;
Believe it for the best, an' trow there's gude in store for you,
For ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
In lang lang days o' simmer, when the clear an' cludless sky
Refuses ae wee drap o' rain to Nature parch' d an' dry,
The genial night, wi' balmy breath, gars verdure spring anew,
An' ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
So lest 'mid Fortune's sunshine we should feel owre proud an' hie,
An' in our pride forget to wipe the tear frae poortith's e'e;
Some wee dark cluds o' sorrow come, we ken nae whence or how,
But ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
Note.— Inserted in this work by the kind permission of the author.
110
THE THORN TREE,
From Taifs Magazine, Sept,
Music by T. S. Gleadhill.
toon - ni - ly, bon - ni - ly, Then met my lass when
Chorus.
was still,
spread - ing
I clasped my lassie to my heart,
And vow'd my love should lasting be
And wussed ilk ill to be my part,
When I forgat the thorn tree.
Oh ! for the thorn tree — the fresh, the scented thorn tree ! —
I'll ever mind, wi' blythesome glee, my lassie and the thorn tree !
We met beneath the rising moon —
She bedded maist as soon as we,
She hung the westlin' heights aboon,
When we cam frae the thorn tree.
Oh !• for the thorn tree — the fresh, the milk-white thorn tree !'
'Twas past the midnight hour a wee, when we cam' frae the thorn tree !
I've seen the glass careerin' past —
I lik'd it too — I'll never lee;
But oh ! its joys can ne'er be class'd
Wi' love aneath the thorn tree !
Oh ! for the thorn tree — the fresh, the milk-white thorn tree ! —
Of a' the joys there's nane to me like love aneath the thorn tree !
Ill
TRIO:— THE DANISH SEA-KING'S SONG.
Written by William Motherwell. Danish air.— Arranged by A. Hume.
-y. z:
iPSgi
S3p=f
:gfci
Our hark is on the wa - ters deep, our bright blades in our hand, Our
Our bark is on the wa - ters deep, our bright blades in our hand, Our
Bass.
r
j^-r-js js g i t~nrmri^^m
:*=?rzfc:
Our bark is on the wa - ters deep, our bright blades in our hand, Our
^^333^^"^
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fe^EEg
birth-right is the o - eean vast—we scorn the gird - led laud ; And the
fl— =*— . — 1— N — -tc— &-
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birth-right is the 0 - cean vast— we scorn the gird - led land ; And the
birth-right is the 0 - cean vast— we scorn the gird - led land; And the
hoi - low wind is our mus - ic brave, and none can bold - er be Than the
j^^^=f
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m
i=@
hoi - low wind is our mus - ic brave, and none can bold - er be Than the
hoi - low wind
our mus - ic brave, and none can bold - er be Than the
112
p^^HE
— Be
hoarse-tongued tem - pest, rav - ing o'er a proud and swell - ing
ipi^giifei^Eip^g
g
hoarse-tongued tem - pest, rav - ing o'er a proud and swell
P:
fe|
hoarse-tongued tem - pest rav -ing o'er a proud and swell - ing sea.
Our eagle-wings of might we stretch before the gallant wind,
And we leave the tame and sluggish earth a dim mean speck behind;
We shoot into the tmtrack'd deep, as earth-freed spirits soar,
Like stars of fire through boundless space — through realms without a shore !
The warrior of the land may back the wild horse, in his pride ;
But a fiercer steed we dauntless breast — the untam'd ocean tide ;
And a nobler tilt our back careers, as it stems the saucy wave,
While the Herald storm peals o'er the deep the glories of the brave.
Hurrah ! hurrah ! the wind is up — it bloweth fresh and free,
And every cord, instinct with life, pipes loud its fearless glee ;
Big swell the bosom' d sails with joy, and they madly kiss the spray,
As proudly through the foaming surge the Sea- King bears away !
WHEN THE KING COMES OWRE THE WATER.
Words by Lady Keith
t
?^p=*=pig
Jacobite.
H^lpf!
I may sit in my wee croo house, At the rock and the reel to
toil fu' drear - y ; I may think on the
day that's gane, And
113
sigla and sab till I grow wear - y. I ne'er could brook, I ne'er could
a ran - tin' sang, That day oar king comes owre the wa-ter.
0 gin I live to see the day,
That I hae begged, and begged frae Heaven,
I'll fling my rock and reel away,
And dance and sing frae morn till even :
For there is ane I winna name,
That comes the reigning bike to scatter ;
And I'll put on my bridal gown,
That day our king comes owre the water.
1 hae seen the gude auld day,
The day o' pride and chieftain glory,
When royal Stuarts bore the sway,
And ne'er heard tell o' whig nor tory.
Though lyart be my locks and grey,
And eild has crook'd me down — what matter ?
I'll dance and sing ae ither day,
That day our king comes owre the water.
A. curse on dull and drawling whig,
The whining, ranting, low deceiver,
Wi' heart sae black, and look sae big,
And canting tongue o' clishmaclaver !
My father was a good lord's son,
My mother was an earl's daughter,
And I'll be Lady Keith again,
That day our king comes owre the water.
114
WILL YOU NO COME BACK AGAIN?
From "Jacobite Minstrelsy." Glasgow : E. Griffin & Co. 1S2S.
Men - y a heart will break in twa, Should he ne'er come back a - gain.
Will you no come back a -gain? Will you no come
lE^U—
BB=E^P^iEE£^yi
Bet - ter lo'ed you'll nev - er be, Will you no come back a- gain?
Mony a traitor 'mang the isles
Brak' the band o' nature's law;
Mony a traitor, wi' his wiles,
Sought to wear his life awa'.
Will he no come back again, &c.
The hills he trode were a' his ain,
And bed beneath the birken tree ;
The bush that hid him on the plain,
There's none on earth can claim but he.
Will he no come back again, &c.
Whene'er I hear the blackbird sing,
Unto the e'ening sinking down,
Or merle that makes the woods to ring,
To me they hae nae ither soun',
Than, will he no come back again, &c.
Mony a gallant sodger fought,
Mony a gallant chief did fa';
Death itself was dearly bought,
A' for Scotland's king and law.
Will he no come back again, &c.
Sweet the lav'rock's note and lang,
Lilting wildly up the glen ;
And aye the o'ercome o' the sang
Is, " Will he no come back again ? "
Will he no come back again, &c.
Note.— This song belongs to the times which compose the subject of it, and it is written with
considerable spirit. The imputation on the men of the isles is, however, too general, for even
those gentlemen who refused, upon principle, to join the standard of Charles, had no wish that
he should be captured; but on the contrary, many of them afterwards secretly lent themselves
to his escape. If suspicion rested upon any one, it was only on the Laird of M'Leod, who wrote
to Macdonald of Kingsborough, desiring him, if the Prince fell in his way, to deliver him up,
and saying that he would thereby do a service to his country. But Kingsborough acted a very
different part; for he lodged the Prince hospitably in his house, and did not leave him till he
saw him safe out of the reach of his enemies. For this he was afterwards taken up and
imprisoned in a dungeon at Fort Augustus, where being examined by Sir Everard Falkuer,
115
THE SUN EISES BRIGHT IN FRANCE.
"Words by Allan Cunningham.
Slow.
sun ris - es bright in , France, And fair
But
pHi
m
-z
:hh:
he has tint the
blink he had In
my ain coun
iNf*
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P
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no my am
in That weuts aye my
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-Sa=
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left be - hind Wi'
sweet bair - nies
The bud comes back to summer,
And the blossom to the tree,
But I win back — oh, never,
To my ain countrie.
Gladness comes to many,
Sorrow comes to me,
As I look o'er the wide ocean
To my ain countrie.
Fu' bienly low'd my ain hearth,
And smiled my ain Marie :
Oh ! I've left my heart behind
In my ain countrie !
O I'm leal to high heaven,
Which aye was leal to me !
And it's there I'll meet ye a' soon,
Frae my ain countrie.
he was put in mind how noble an opportunity he had lost of making the fortune of himself and
his familv for ever. To which Kingsborough indignantly replied, "No, Sir Everard, death
would have been preferable to such dishonour. But at any rate, had I gold and silver, piled
heaps on heaps, to the bulk of yon huge mountain, the vast mass could not afford me half the
satisfaction I find in my own breast, from doing what I have done." This gentleman was
afterwards removed to Edinburgh Castle, where he was kept close prisoner for a year, nobody
being permitted to see him but the officer upon guard, the sergeant and the keeper, which last
was appointed to attend him as a servant. When the act of grace was passed he was
discharged.
116
DTTET:— AE FOND KISS, AND THEN WE SEVER.
Words by Burns. Arranged by A. Hume.
1st Voice. Adagio.
and groans I'll
Who shall say that for - tune grieves him,
£=£
m
=£=£
nae cheer - fu' twin - kle
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me,
v
-^m
E5^e11e*
:?r
f— Ht
:f=(2s!:
While the star of hope she leaves him? Me,
nae cheer - fu' twin
pp
-kle
lights me ; Dark despair a-round be-nights me.
P
mi!
Ae fond
PP
m
^&m
lights me; Dark despair a-round be - nights me.
Ae fond kiss.
117
1*11 ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy ;
But to see her, was to love her ;
Love but her, and love for ever.
[Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met — or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted,]
Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest !
Fare- thee- weel, thou best and dearest !
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure !
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever ;
Ae farewell, alas ! for ever !
Deep in heart- wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Note.— Sir Walter Scott says of the lines thus marked [ ], "This exquisitely affecting stanza
contains the essence of a thousand love-tales."
THE KISS AHINT THE DOOR.
Words by T. C. Latto.
CJwrus.
Music by Thomas Anderson.
~]T1 -'JlwMR
0 mei - kle bliss is in a kiss, Whyles mair than in a score ; But
Fine.
wae be - tak' the stou - in' smack I took a - hint the door.
lad - die, whisht, for sic
fricht I ne'er was in
fore,
-crtr -is — £— ^__
""'" 0 «"
— ^W—T—tz
=3— * c3
Jr — £_?? — i — ^_
b* =L_i ^3
— * i l~- * -
— o ! — V. —
braw - ly did my mith - er hear The kiss a - hint the door. The
wa's are thick, ye need-na fear, But gin they jeer an' mock, I'll
swear it was
star - tit cork, Or wyte the rus - ty
118
We stappit ben, while Maggie's face
Was like a lowin' coal,
An' as for me, I could hae crept
Into a mouse's hole:
The mither look't, sauff 's how she look't !
Thae mithers are a bore,
An' gleg as ony cat to hear
A kiss ahint the door.
O meikle, &c.
The douce gudeman, tho' he was there,
As weel micht been in Rome,
For by the fire he fufF'd his pipe,
An' never fasli'd his thoom.
But tittrin' in a corner stood
The gawky sisters four,
A winter's nicht for me they micht
Hae stood ahint the door.
0 meikle, &c.
" How daur ye tak' sic freedoms here? "
The bauld gudewife began 5
Wi' that a foursome yell gat up,
I to my heels an' ran ;
A besom whisket by my lug,
An' dishclouts kalf-a-score,
Catch me again, tho' fidgin' fain,
At kissing 'hint the door.
0 meikle, &c.
I00NS, YE MAUN GAE HAME.
Lively. Author unknown.
Jacobite.
S*
^■W
It's here a - wa\ there a - wa', how they did rin ; When they saw the clans
P^ Jfl.J"Ujll
iiee, When they heard that Prince Charlie was come owre the sea. It's loons, ye maun gae hame.
They got to their feet, just as sure as a gun,
Whene'er they heard Charlie to Scotland was come,
" Haste, haste ye awa'," quo the auld wives wi' glee;
" 0 joy to the day Charlie cam' owre the sea."
An' loons, ye maun gae hame.
Whigs, fare ye a' weel, ye may scamper awa',
For haith here nae langer ye'll whip an' ye'll ca'5
Nor mair look on Scotland wi' lightlifu' e'e,
For Charlie at last has come over the sea.
An' loons, ye maun gae hame.
119
Our lang Scottish miles they will tire ye right sair,
An' aiblins, in mosses and bogs ye will lair ;
But, rest an' be thankfu' gin hame ye may see,
I rede ye that Charlie has come owre the sea.
An' loons, ye maun gae hame.
Author unknown.
FAREWELL TO THE LAND.
Music by T. S. Gleadhill.
Fare-well to the land of the rock and the wild-wood, The hill and the
for - est and proud swel-ling wave ; To the land where bliss smiled on the
days of my child-hood, Fare-well to thee, Sco - tia, thou land of the brave.
fc£
-g-— r
BEF±
a
Far dear-er to me
thy heath-cov-er'd moun-tains, Than Gal-lia's rich
p^^g^Ep^feiii
val-leys, and gay fer- tile plains; And dear-er by far than the mur-mur-ing
fc=p:
fc:zf=:£=3=£:
r
foun-tains, The roar of the tor -rent, where lib - er - ty reigns.
Wherever I wander, sweet isle of the ocean,
My thoughts still shall turn to thy wild rocky shore ;
Ah ! still shall my heart beat with fondest emotion,
While musing on scenes I may visit no more.
Adieu, then, dear land of romance and wild story,
Thy welfare and honour for ever shall be
The prayer of an exile, whose boast and whose glory
Is the tie that still binds him, loved country, to thee !
120
NOW TELL ME, SWEET MAPvY.
Words by Alexander Maclagan.
Andante affetuoso.
Music by \V. Walker.
for sae down-hear-ted and thought-fa' you be ; Draw back that lang
-j, —I 1 f~
sigh and I'll make ye my bride, For I'm wae to see teai-s at sae
e. Look a - boon ye, the sun in its glo - ry is
low - in', Look a -round ye, lore, a'
p=g=p§^^^p§l^=2
a flow - er-y lea; Thy light foot is
^^^^^^l^^SB
kissed by the wee modest gowan, Will ye no smile on aught that is smil-ing to thee?
I ken, gentle youth, that a' Nature looks braw in
Her robe wrought wi' flowers, and her saft smile o' glee ;
But look at this leaf that beside me hath fa' en, —
It has fa'en, puir thing, an's ne'er miss't frae the tree.
0, sae maun I fa1 soon, and few will e'er miss me,
My sleep is for aye, when I next close my e'e ;
But the dew will weep o'er me, and friendly death bless me,
And the wind through the night will cry, 0 wae's me !
I ken they look fair, every rose on yon thorn,
Wi' the innocent wee buds just opening their e'en ;
But the rose I like best is a' blighted and torn,
And o'er its dead blossom the grass it grows green ;
Then leave me, youth, leave me; through life's flowery lawn,
Gae seek out a maiden more fitting for thee;
0 ! what would ye do wi' a weak trembling han',
And a poor broken heart that maun lie down an' dee ?
121
MY HEAHT'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.
The first four lines of this song belong to an old ballad, called the " Strong Walls of Derry."
The others were added by Burns. Tune— Failte na miosg.
T^H^=HEkmmrrr&-^
My heart's in the High-lands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the
SPE=g=g^=*
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Jsz
■*=¥£
r — grT-
:ta=fc:&
High-lands a chas-ing the deer; A chas - ing the wild deer, and
pi^lplp^lS^pp^^
fol-low - ing the roe ; My heart's in the High-lands wher - ev - er I go.
p^jg^p^M^^E^i^
Fare - well to the Highlands, fare - well to the north, The birth-place of
•f P
^g=P^^^^^^^^
:fc=t
val - our, the coun - try of worth, Wher - ev - er I wan - der, wher-
^g^^si^^pp^S
ev - er I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ev - er I love.
Farewell to the mountains high cover' d -with snow ;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below ;
Farewell to the forests and wild hanging woods ;
Farewell to the torrents and loud pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a chasing the deer;
A chasing the wild deer, and following the roe ;
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
122
WILL YE GO TO THE EWE-BTTGHTS, MAHION?
This is a very old song, with additions by Allan Ramsay.
Moderately &low.
2^s=^a=a§g
■ * -
Will ye go to the ewe-hughts, Ma - rion, And wear in the sheep wi'
t=B=^=±z±^
f=r=Sh=fhr===^
ll^^i^Hl^
me ? The sun shines sweet, my Ma - rion, But nae half sae sweet as
4S — 14.
:fc=q:==i=
&m*?ig£gm$&=&f
thee ! The sun shines sweet, my Ma-rion, But nae half sae sweet as thee !
There's gowd in your garters, Marion,
And silk on your white hause-bane ;
Fu' fain wad I kiss m)- Marion,
At e'en when I come name.
There's braw lads in Earnslaw, Marion,
Wha gape, and glow'r with their e'e,
At kirk when they see my Marion ;
But nane of them lo'es like me.
I've nine milk ewes, my Marion,
A cow and a brawny quey ;
I'll gie them a' to my Marion,
Just on her bridal day.
And ye's get a green sey apron,
And waistcoat of the London brown,
And wow but ye will be yap' ring,
Whene'er ye gang to the town.
I'm young and stout, my Marion.
Nane dances like me on the green ;
And gin ye forsake me, Marion,
I'll e'en gae draw up wi' Jean.
Sae put on your parlins, Marion,
And kirtle of the cramasie ;
And soon as my chin has nae hair on,
I shall come west and see ve.
123
MY WIFE EAS TA'EN THE GEE.
From Herd's collection, published 1769.
Sfcfc=£=^^3S=EE£=fefeES
==*>=£:
■V-
A friend o' mine cam' here yes-treen, And he wad hae me down, To
_£ _n_-N--,
g=£=l=5=^
*=*
drink a pot of ale wi' him, In the neist bor - ough town. But,
oh I a - lake ! it was the waur, And sair the waur for me ; For
lang or e'er that I cam' hame, My wife had ta'en the gee.
We sat sae late, and drank sae stout,
The truth I'll tell to you,
That lang or ever midnight cam',
We baith were roaring f'ou.
My wife sits by the fireside,
And the tear blinds aye her e'e;
The ne'er a bed will she gae to,
But sit and tak' the gee.
In the morning soon, when I come down,
The ne'er a word she spak';
But mony a sad and sour look,
And aye her head she'd shake.
" My dear," quo' I, "what aileth thee,
To look sae sour at me ;
I'll never do the like again,
If ye'll ne'er tak' the gee."
When that she heard, she ran, she flang
Her arms about my neck,
And twenty kisses in a crack,
And, poor wee thing, she grat.
" If ye'll ne'er do the like again.
But stay at hame wi' me,
I'll lay my life, I'se be the wife
That's never tak' the gee."
Slowly
124
DONALD.
^g^^E^^Egg
I own,
I fond - ly fa - vour'd
lp-J^jj_Jj_^ ? j>| rg=f^
you;
Ap - pa - rent
worth and high
re - nown Made me be-
j&fc^rrpfc
9 q [f-P
P
r> p-p w?-^r* ft
qp kh 5
L2_iLEi=t2-
£ Lid
— yj 1— i- — ys — — L,»i- — •-T—
lieve you
true, Don - aid. Each vir - tue then seem'd to
r=£3^
-**fz
SfeE
nPF
by
:£=P=3:
^HH^^^p^^^^N^I
now the mask's thrown off, I scorn To waste one thought on thee,
O then for ever haste away,
Away from love and me ;
Go seek a heart that's like your own,
And come no more to me, Donald.
For I'll reserve myself alone
For one that's more like me ;
If such a one I cannot find,
I'll fly from love and thee, Donald.
*4
Donald.
i&
HAME CAM' OUR GUDEMAN AT E'EN.
Reeit. In time. Secit.
IM^pgli^pglgii^
rK-fr
Hame cam' our gude-man at e'en, And hame cam' he, And there he saw a
. In time. /—
^^g^^=P^E3^EEg=pg=pg
sad - die horse, Where horse sud na he.
Oh ! how's this? and what's this? And
■ ■ I S —J ft ^
wha's may he
be?
How cam' this horse here With - out the leave o'
125
In time.
-IS — - J- jl_. *s—35=rfezr
Ills
me? Ye sil - ly, blind, doit - ed carle, And blind -er may ye be; It':
* tt Recit-
J3=gEJjgg=g=^=i^
*s=±
but a bon - nie milk cow My min - nie sent to me. Milk cow ! quo'
4+ In time.
■rtzr^f— fed
*
lie; Ay, milk cow, quo' she; 0 far hae I rid -den, and far-er
liecit. In time.
t3=tt
glp^^
?E±3^
3=ta
hae I gaen, But a sad - die on a milk cow, Saw I nev - er nane.
Hame cam' our gudeman at e'en,
And hame cam' he,
And there he saw a siller gun,
Where nae sic gun sud be.
How's this ? and what's this ?
And how cam' this to be V
How cam' this gun here
Without the leave o' me ?
Ye stupid, auld, doited carle,
Ye're unco blind I see ;
It's but a bonnie parritch-stick
My minnie sent to me. [quo'
Parritch-stick! quo' he; ay, parritch-
Far hae I ridden, and meildehae I
But siller mounted parritch-sticks
Saw I never nane.
Hame cam' our gudeman at e'en,
A nd hame cam' he,
And there he saw a feather cap,
Where nae cap sud be.
How's this ? and what's this ?
And how cam' this to be ?
How cam' this bannet here,
Without the leave o' me ?
Ye're a silly, auld, donard bodie,
And unco blind I see ;
It's but a tappit clocken hen,
My minnie sent to me. [quo' she ;
A clocken hen ! quo' he ; a clocken hen,
Far hae I ridden, and farer hae I gaen,
But white cockauds on clocken hens,
Saw I never nane.
Ben the house gaed the gudeman,
And ben gaed he,
she ; And there he spied a Hieland plaid,
stick, Where nae plaid should be.
seen, How's this? and what's this?
And how cam' this to be ?
How cam' the plaid here,
Without the leave o' me ?
Oh hooly, hooly, my gudeman,
And dinna anger'd be ;
It cam wi' cousin M'Intosh,
Frae the north countrie. [she;
Your cousin ! quo' he ; aye, cousin, quo'
Blind as ye may jibe me, I've sight
enough to see,
Ye're hidin' tories in the house,
Without the leave o' me.
126
Words by Burns.
MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED, RED ROSE.
Air — Low down in the Broom.
=ri*r
qs=fc
B£j:
?& — *Z
:?— 1«:
:=S=*
E^~E=^
0 my love is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June! 0 my
:qs=rp:
=^3^P^EEt
love is like a mel - o - dy, That's sweet-ly play'd in tune I As fair art
thou, my hon - nie lass, So deep in love am I ; And I will love thee
» .s-S «--| S I* fS
|ga^^
it— KJ
g-j-^-f-'F^]
still, my
r, Till a* the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my
dear, Till
the seas gang dry. And
I will love thee
EEE^E^E^fe
!=t=
still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. 'twere ten thous-and mile.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
And I will love thee, still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
But, fare-thee-weel, my only love!
0 fare-thee-weel awhile !
And I will come again, my love,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile, my love,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile ;
And I will come again, my love,
Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.
Tannahill.
127
GLOOMY WINTER'S NOW AWA'.
Air— Lord Balgounie's Favourite.
J-t— d J— t— • d— v-~h 1—- * — ■= — P^= * — : — \A— J? — 5 — S a —
:g=±r=|*=:£=i*:
Gloom - y win-ter'a now a - wa', Saffc the west - lin' breez - es
r
blaw,
■*g — VZ
:^s— ^:
S^^i
m
'Mang the birks o* Stan -ley shaw The ma -vis sings fu' cheer -ie,
^=g:
r + • t i + • t
Sweet the craw-flow'r's ear - ly bell, Decks Glen - if - fer's dew - y
PE
-P— ^— W ! — =-=S ®— : — 8 1 P— : — B S-i
g=*2
Bloom-ing like thy bon - nie sel', My young, my art - less dear - ie,
Tt=Mz
mm
Come, my las - sie, let us stray, O'er Glen - kill-och's sun - ny
Blyth - ly spend the gowd - en day, 'Midst joys that nev - er wea - ry, 0.
Tow'ring o'er the Newton woods,
Lav' rocks fan the snaw- white clouds,
Siller saughs, wi' downy buds,
Adorn the banks sae briery, 0.
Round the sylvan fairy nooks,
Feath'ry breckans fringe the rocks,
'Neath the brae the burnie jouks,
And ilka thing is cheerie, 0.
Trees may bud, and birds may sing,
Flowers may bloom and verdure spring,
Joy to me they canna bring,
Unless wi" thee, my dearie, 0.
>•
128
GET UP AS?D BAR THE DOOR.
m
:? — P^"B-
^5—
as
^5=$-^:
JZZK
:ez^fc
'%m
It fell a - bout the Mart'mas time, And a gay time it was then, 0 ! When
iST*
&W5!-
sags
our gude-wife had pud-dings to mak', And she hoil'd them in the pan, 0 !
The wind blew cauld frae north to south, And first they ate the white puddings,
And blew in to the floor, 0 ! And then they ate the black, O ! [sel',
Quoth our gudeman to our gudewife, Tho' muckle thought the gudewife to her-
" Get up and bar the door, 0 ! " Yet ne'er a word she spak', 0 !
" My hand is in my husswyfskip, Then said the ane unto the other —
Gudeman, as ye may see, O ! [year, " Here, man, tak' ye my knife, O !
An' it should na be barr'd this hundred Do ye tak' aff the auld man's beard,
It's no be barr'd for me, O ! " And I'll kiss the gudewife, O !
They made a paction 'tween them twa,
They made it firm and sure, O !
Whaever spak' the foremost word,
Should rise and bar the door, 0 !
" But there's nae water in the house,
And what shall we do then, O ? "
" What ails you at the puddin' broo
That boils into the pan, 0 ? "
Then by there came twa gentlemen, 0 up then started our gudeman,
At twelve o' clock at night, O ! And an angry man was he, O !
And they could neither see house nor ha', " Will ye kiss my wife before my e'en,
Nor coal nor candle light, 0 ! And scaud me wi' puddin' bree, 0 ! ':
Now, whether is this a rich man's house, Then up and started our gudewife,
Or whether is it a poor, 0 ? Gied three skips on the floor, O ! [word,
But never a word wad ane o' them speak, " Gudeman, ye've spoken the foremost
For barring o' the door, 0 ! Get up and bar the door, O ! "
129
AULD JOE NICOLSON'S BONNIE NANNIE.
Words by the Ettrick Shepherd.
Tenderly.
1^1
^
m
:*=— ;
E^
The dai - sy
fair, The day - li - ly rare, The hud o' the rose is
¥
hon - nie, But there ne'er wa
^E
gar - den or how - er, Like auld Joe Ni - col - son's hon - nie Nan - nie.
^
|=^i!SEE^£pt!
my Nan-nie, my dear lit - tie Nan - nie, My sweet lit - tie nid-dle - ty,
gar - den or bow - er, Like auld Joe Ni - col-son's bon - nie Nan-nie.
Ae day she cam' out wi' a rosy blush,
To milk her twa kye, sae couthy an' canny ;
I cower'd me down at the back o' the bush,
To watch the air o' my bonnie Nannie. — 0 my Nannie, &c.
Her looks that strayed o'er nature away,
Frae bonnie blue een sae mild an' mellow ;
Saw naething sae sweet in nature's array,
Though clad in the morning's gowden yellow. — 0 my Nannie, &c*
My heart lay beating the flowery green,
In quakin', quiverin' agitation,
An' the tears cam' tricklin' down frae my een
Wi' perfect love an' admiration. — 0 my Nannie, &c.
There's mony a joy in this warld below,
An' sweet the hopes that to sing were uncanny ;
But o' a' the pleasures I ever can know,
There's nane like the love o' my bonnie Nannie. — 0 my Nannie, &c.
* This verse is usually omitted in the singing.
130
COME O'ER THE STREAM, CHARLIE.
Words by the Ettrick Shepherd. Chorus arranged for this work by A. ITume.
Air,— MacLean's Welcome.
U--&-
m
±=±4
^S * ^-RHr^:-.
Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Char-lie, brave Char -lie, Come o'er the stream,
;B^-=35=3gpFF^
s
Char -lie, and dine with Mac - Lean; And though you be wea-ry, we'll
:S=S=g
^^H
make your heart chee-rie, And wel-come our Char -lie and his loy - al train.
h^±Jd+-Ummmmm^mmm
We'll bring down the red deer, we'll bring down the black steer, The lamb from the
=lll3=^=jlfea
mm
*—$:
breck - an, and doe from the glen ; The salt
we'll liar - ry, and
bring to our Char -lie, The cream from the bo -thy, and curd from the pen.
Cnonus.
*^m
CJ-f— J M-F=EEi^
^F
Come o'er the stream, Char-lie, dear Char - lie, brave Char - lie, Come
Tenor.
S=
3=5=3=^=3
Come o'er the stream, Char -lie, dear Char - lie, brave Char - lie, Come
Bass.
i=~^=£=^
1»— — j=\— |*=
Come o'er the stream, Char - lie, dear Char - lie, brave Char - lie, Come
131
o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with MacLean ; And tho' you he wea - ry, we'll
~^^^m
N .1 1 I"
o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with MacLean; And tho' you he wea-ry, we'll
g=j v '^TX i E±± V— dB=±
o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with MacLean; And tho' you be wea-ry, we'll
mak' your heart chee-rie, And wel-come our Char-lie and his roy - al tra;
^^p^r^^^^P^p^
mak' your heart chee-rie, Ami wel-come our Char-lie and his roy - al train.
mak' your heart chee-rie, And wel-come our Char-lie and his roy - al train.
And you shall drink freely the dews of Glen-Sheerly,
That stream in the star-light, when kings dinna ken
And deep be your meed of the wine that is red,
To drink to your sire and his friend the MacLean.
Come o'er the stream, &c.
If aught will invite you, or more will delight you,
'Tis ready — a troop of our bold Highland men
Shall range on the heather, with bayonet and feather,
Strong arms arid broad claymores, three hundred and ten.
Come o'er the stream, &c.
132
Jst Voice. Mournfully.
iftep
DTJET:-0 WALY! WALY!
Arranged for this work by A. Hume.
=5*
:p_.
'ms^i
O wa - ly! wa - ly! up the bank, An' wa - ly! wa - ly! down the
2d Voice. tnf
^-jri^^^^V^ j\ M=#±j?
0 Vrra - ly I wa - ly ! up the bank, An' wa - ly ! wa - ly ! down the
^i=e==
f- ir
:=*
^=g^^H
£*z
gj I '
1
brae ; An' wa - ly ! by yon burnside, Where I an' my love wont to gae.
^Ip^ip^^gEpsS
brae; An* wa-ly! by yon burnside, Where I an' my love wont to
I leant my back un - to an aik, I thought it was a trus - ty
1— 14— a— -;
I leant my back un - to an aik, I thought it was a trus - ty
/T\ rail.
tree ; But first it bow'd an' syne it brake, An' so did my fause love to me.
r~\ rail.
S§g^^^p^=E?l^P
tree; But first it bow'd an'- syne it brake, An' sae did my fause love to me.
0 waly, waly, but love be bonr.ie 0 wherefore should I busk my heid,
A little time while it is new; Or wherefore should I kame my hair?
But when it's auld, it waxes cauld, For my true love has me forsook,
And fades away like the morning dew. And says he'll never love me mair.
133
Now Arthur's Seat shall he my bed,
The sheets shall ne'er be pressed by me.
St. Anton's Well shall be my drink,
Since my true love has forsaken me.
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves aff the tree ?
O, gentle death, when wilt thou come?
For of my life I am wearie.
'Tis not the frost that freezes fell ;
Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie ;
'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry ;
But my love's heart's grown cauld to me.
When we came in by Glasgow town,
We were a comely sicht to see ;
My love was clad in the black velvet,
And I mysel' in cramasie.
But had I wist, before I kiss'd,
That love had been Site ill to win,
I'd lock'd my heart in a case of gold,
And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin.
Oh, oh ! if my young babe were born,
And set upon the nurse's knee,
And I myself were dead and gane,
And the green grass growing over me.
THE WIDOW'S LULLABY.
Alex. A. Ritchie.
T. S. Gleadhill.
safe - ly sleep, my ton - nie bon - nie bairn, Rock'd on this
^^*EE^^P=|3Eg£=^5
breast o' mine,
RalUntawdo.
The heart that beats sae sair with - in Will
a tempo.
£=g=^*
_} tcqgzrrp: ^j: — _ fc.
not, will not a - wa - ken thine,
can - kered thochts, That
such late watch - es
RalJentitndo.
keep, And
spT=»J 3 — gil — ^ 1~ ^ =-fl* F3 — ' J
if ye break the mo-ther's rest, Yet let, yet let my ba - by sleep.
Sleep on, sleep on, my ae ae bairn,
Nor look sae wae on me,
As if ye felt the bitter tear
That blin's thy mammie's e'e.
Dry up, dry up, ye saut saut tears,
Lest on my bairn ye dreep,
And break in silence, waefu' heart,
And let my baby sleep.
134
THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.
Written by Thomas Campbell.
Maestoso.
Music by R. A. Smith.
-tie fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And their
hand, And the prince of all the land Led them on.
Like leviathans afloat,
Lay their bulwarks on the brine ;
While the sign of battle flew
On the lofty British line :
It was ten of April morn by the chime :
As they drifted on their path,
There was silence deep as death ;
And the boldest held his breath
For a time. —
again ! agam
Again !
And the havoc did not slack,
Till a feeble cheer the Dane
To our cheering sent us back ; —
Their shots along the deep slowly boom :
Then ceas'd — and all is wail,
As they strike the shatter'd sail ;
Or, in conflagration pale,
Light the gloom. —
But the might of England flush'd Now joy, old England, raise !
To anticipate the scene; For the tidings of thy might,
And her van the fleeter rushed By the festal cities' blaze,
O'er the deadly space between. While the wine cup shines in light ;
"Hearts of oak! "our captains cried, when And yet amidst that joy and uproar,
From its adamantine lips [each gun Let us think of them that sleep,
Spread a death- shade round the ships, Full many a fathom deep,
Like the hurricane eclipse By thy wild and stormy steep,
Of the sun. — Elsinore ! —
135
Brave hearts! to Britain's pride
Once so faithful and so true,
On the deck of fame that died,
With the gallant, good Iiiou : *
Soft sigh the winds of heav'n o'er their grave !
While the billow mournful rolls,
And the mermaid's song condoles,
Singing glory to the souls
Of the brave ! —
* Captain Riou, justly entitled the gallant and the good, by Lord Nelson, when he wrote
home his despatches.
MARY'S BOWES.
Words by Alexander Maclagan.
Andantino Sostenuto.
Music by W. Walker.
bird re-plied, From dawn of day To ev'ning's dew - y hour,
ad lib. ^ a tempo.
ofttimes licht to
e^i^p^^^S^^il
learn a lay 0' love, 0' love in Ma - ry's bow'r. 0' love in Ma - ry's bow'r.
Love whispered to the blushing rose —
Sweet flower, come tell me true,
From whence each lovely tint that glows
Thy breast o' beauty through ?
The rose replied wi' blushing brow,
Oh ! happy is the flower
That's fed upon the smiles an' dew
O' love in Mary's bower.
Love whispered to the evening star —
From whence your glory, say,
When burning in your sphere afar,
You gem the Milky Way?
The star replied — Though bright my skies,
There's beams o' greater power,
That ever flash from two fair eyes
0' love in Mary's bower.
Love whispered to the world around,
A holy gift is thine ;
The world replied — Where love is found,
Are treasures more divine.
Love told the tale to beating hearts ;
And from that sunny hour,
He sends his keenest, brightest darts
O' love frae Mary's bower.
136
BUET— YE BANKS AND BRAES 0' BONNIE BOON.
Words by Burns. Arranged for thia work by Jam^s Miller.
1st Voice. With feeling.
5=^=?* — N— f -j
■w- J7 — v — "•- ^«s — bP3
^
S^?IH!S
Ye banks and braes o*
loon - nle Doon, EoW can ye bloom sae
^
=3 .=^r^:B:iE^!5 fr-^zj^r=^==}
B I &=±5==£z±z*-< — 5=^g— i^dES— iE=h:cr2sd
Ye banks and
bon - nie Doon, How can ye bloom sae
^^^™=
fresh and fair? How can ye chant, y£
lit - tie birds, And
f#±
:f^f
l=di=t
J. ■ * ■Jg: v
fresh and fair? How can ye chant, y<
lit - tie birds, And
I sae wea - ry fu' o' care. Thou'lt break my heart, thou
war-bling bird, That
:fS=4s
::k — ^ lj_ 55 — -N=R1
S
zfcg:
:^bi
f ^-
minds me o' de - part - ed joys, De - part - 1
ne - rer to re - turn.
tdt
— -I — C3 |v— jS s-| — S q=
^
minds me o' de - part - ed joys, De - part - ed ne - ver to re
turn.
137
Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine ;
And ilka bird sang o' its love,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree ;
And my fause lover stole my rose,
But ah ! he left the thorn wi' me.
Words by Burns.
Ami ante affetuoso.
THE BBAES 0' BALLOCHMYLE.
The Ca - trine
woods were yel - low
seon, The flowers
de-
cayed on
ft
^- ^=t=J
Esrj— » jsdb
=i=p=i=»—
_* —
=£=£
T
uf — ,M-t
w — ' — r — J j-
_j k_J — _
Ca
lea; Nae lav' - rock sang on hil - lock green, But
i^snn^
Through fa - ded groves, Ma-
j^g=5=*pE^
sang, Her
** v — -- — r
beau - ty's bloom the while, An' aye the
gl^i^Hi^
^F
j-hfl-
m
wild-woods' e - choes rang, Fare - weel, fare
sweet rial -loch - myle.
Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair;
Ye birdies dumb, in withering bowers,
Again ye'll charm the vocal air;
But here, alas ! for me nae mair
Shall birdie charm, or flow'ret smile ;
Fareweel the bcnnie banks o' Ayr,
Fareweel, fareweel ! sweet Ballochmyle
f2
138
DUET— MY AIN FIRESIDE.
Y/ords by Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton.
Air.
Arranged by A. Hume.
3^g=g^
2^^
f==FF
I ha'e seen great anes, an' sat in great ha's, 'Mang
j^=F^^^l^^=pi
lords an' 'mang la - dies, a' cov - er'd wi' braws ; But a sight sae de-
FRi i\ rirn_; j. | ^-|-^^
m^^^^
mmm
139
Ance mair, heaven be praised ! round my ain heartsome ingle,
Wi' the friends o' my youth I cordially mingle ;
Nae forms to compel me to seem wae or glad,
I may laugh when I'm merry, and sigh when I'm sad.
My ain fireside, my ain fireside,
O there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside.
Nae falsehood to dread, nae malice to fear,
But truth to delight me, and kindness to cheer;
O' a' roads to pleasure that ever were tried^
There's nane half sae sure as ane's ain fireside.
My ain fireside, my ain fireside,
O sweet is the blink o' my ain fireside.
BONNIE WEE THING.
Words by Burns.
dfc
Bon - nie wee thing, can - ny wee thing, Love - ly wee thing, wert thou mine;
Fine.
And my
heart it stounds with an - guish, Lest my wee thing
na mine.
[Here repeat the first part of the music, and commence the following stanzas with the
second part:—]
Wit and grace, and love and beauty,
In ae constellation shine !
To adore thee is my duty,
Goddess of this soul o' mine.
Bonnie wee thing, canny wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel I should tine.
140
YE NEEDNA BE COURTIN' AT ME, ATJLD MAN.
Words by Peter Still. Music by James Rennie.
Archly.
-fr '7' ' — — K—J-' — 5f" ""-"-" — r
• na be court - in' at me, auld man, Ye need - na be
e'e, Sae ye need - na be court - in* at me, auld man, Ye need - na be
Oruffll/.
Hpfe^Pgs;
3^=*
court - in' at
Ha'e pa-tience and hear me a wee, sweet
^ — 3s — *-
j— ri-q^— fc
j=e
lass, Ilae pa-tience and hear me a
gou - pins o
*^P^
:z — j~z
JEE$
an awm - ry weel stow'd, And a heart that loe's nane
^=p=a=»=Hii=i
3=J:
thee, sweet lass, And
heart that lo'es nane but thee.
Gang hame to your gowd and your gear, auld man,
Gang hame to your gowd and your gear ;
There's a laddie I ken has a heart like my ain,
And to me he shall ever be dear, auld man,
And to me he shall ever be dear.
I'll busk ye as braw as a queen, sweet lass,
I'll busk ye as braw as a queen ;
1 bae guineas to spare, and, hark ye, what's mair,
I'm only twa score and fifteen, sweet lass,
I'm only twa score and fifteen.
141
O stan' aff, na', and fash me nae mair, auld man,
Stan' afF, na', and fash me nae mair;
There's a something in love that your gowd canna move-
I'll be Johnnie's although I gang bare, auld man,
I'll be Johnnie's although I gang bare.
iSS;
BIDE YE YET.
Gin I had a wee house, and a can-ty wee fire, A hon-nie wee
I3v^
=3=3=
wi-fie to praise and ad-mire, A hon-nie wee yar-die he-side a wee hum; Fare-
weel to the ho-dies that yau-mer and mourn. Sae hide ye yet, and hide ye
:fe=fc
Ye lit -tie ken wJaat may he - tide ye yet, Some bon-nie wee bo -die may
think -in' o't, wi' think -in' o't, I'll aye he can-ty wi' think -in' o't.
When I gang afield, and come hame at e'en,
I'll get my wee wifie fa' neat and fu' clean,
And a bonnie wee bairnie upon her knee,
That will cry papa or daddy to me.
Sae bide ye yet, &c.
An' if there should ever happen to be
A difference atween my wee wifie and me,
In hearty good humour, although she be teas'd,
I'll kiss her and clap her until she be pleas' d.
Sae bide ye yet, &c.
142
BE KIND TO AULD GRANNIE.
Words by Archibald M'Kay.
Moderate/, with expression.
Music by T. S. Gleadhill.
S
^
m
m
kind to auld gran - nie, for
is frail As
m^^m
^=£
time - skat - ter'd tree bend - ing low
^
the gale; When ye were wee
P=j53=g5^^
watch'd ye when out; And aye when ye chane'd, in your daf-fin' and
fun, To dunt your wee heads on the cauld stan - ey grun', She
-v-
lift - ed ye up, and she kiss'd ye fu^ fain, Till a' your bit
cares were for - got - ten a - gain. Then be kind to auld gran- nie, for
rail.
noo she is frail As a time-shat-ter'd tree bend-ing low in the gale,
"When first in your breasts rose that feeling divine,
That's waked by the tales and the sangs o' langsyne,
Wi' auld-warld cracks she would pleasure inspire,
In the lang winter nichts as she sat by the fire;
Or melt your young hearts wi' some sweet Scottish lay,
Like " The Flowers o' the Forest," or " Auld Eobin Gray;"
Though eerie the win' blew around our bit cot,
Grim winter and a' its wild blasts were forgot ; —
Then be kind to auld grannie, for noo she is frail
As a time-shatter' d tree bending low in the gale.
143
And mind, though the blythe day o' youth noo is yours,
Time will wither its joys, as wild winter the flowers ;
And your step that's noo licht as the bound o' the roe,
Wi' cheerless auld age may be feeble and slow ;
And the Men's o' your youth to the grave may be gane,
And ye on its brink may be tottering alane ;
Oh, think how consoling some frien' would be then,
When the gloaming o' life comes like mist o'er the glen ;-
Then be kind to auld grannie, for noo she is frail
As a time-shatter'd tree bending low in the gale.
SCOTS WHA HA'E WI' WALLACE BLED.
Words by Burns. Air, " Hey, tuttie, tattie."
R— F
Scots, wha liae wi' Wal-lace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has af - ten led !
Wei - come to your go - ry bed, Or to vie - to - rie !
Now's the day an' now's the hour; See the front of bat - tie lour—
See
ap-proach proud Ed- ward's power, Chains and
Wha will be a traitor knave ?
Wha will fill a coward's grave ?
Wha sae base as be a slave ?
Let him turn and flee !
Wha, for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa',
Let him follow me !
By oppression's woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free.
Lay the proud usurpers low !
Tyrants fall in every foe !
Liberty's in ever}7 blow !
Let us do or die!
[In Part IV. we omitted to acknowledge that the "Spinning Wheel," and the Melody of
" Will You No Come Back Again," are inserted in this work by the kind permission of
Messrs. Paterson & Sons of Edinburgh.]
144
DTTET-THOU AET GANE AWA' FEAE ME, MAEY!
Words by Burns. Arranged by A. Hume.
Treble. With feeling.
'—k^-l - ^F=*jj — ! — « — i=j=**==z£^ — F — p=
Thou art
1 n tt tt T^.
gane a - iva'
thou art
gane
a -
Ava', Thou art
£zSr-P==£-^-J
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— P » —
j — ^*
— £-H
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-1 V ]f-r
\j *"* *"=^ \/ 17 ^ CfaJS
i '
ifST
gane a - wa' frae me, iMa - ry! Nor friends nor I
^^s^m-
=^15EE&EE*
ta-i— q=43^t
t=^5r
^3=^^^=g=^g=g
could make thee stay, Thou hast cheat - ed them and me,
P
EjES==fi^=====5&
■yp-p — r
i ■ j i u j — =»< — ^-
la - ry. Un - til this hour I nev
^g=E=H^lp£S
er thought That aught
=3=5*
Ki2 , lj: !: j g i —3 — ^ 1
H^^m
could al - ter thee, Ma - ry; Thou'rt still the mis -tress of
145
Whate'er he said or might pretend,
Wha stole that heart o' thine, Mary;
True love, I'm sure, was ne'er his end,
Nor nae sic love as mine, Mary.
I spake sincere, ne'er flatter'd much,
Nor lichtly thought of thee, Mary;
Ambition, -wealth, nor naething such,
No, I lov'd only thee, Mary.
Tho' you've been false, yet while I live
Nae maid I'll woo like thee, Mary;
Let friends forget, as I forgive,
Thy wrongs to them and me, Mary
So then farewell! of this be sure,
Since you've been false to me, Mary,
For all the world I'd not endure
Half what I've done for thee, Mary !
MY OWN SWEET ROSE.
Words by John Bell.
Moderate
Music by Thomas Anderson.
am - bi - tion
^EJjgj^^^3!=g=p3^^P
knows, To cher - ish in my ru - ral cot My own sweet Eose.
Her little fragile fairy form,
So slender, light, an' fair,
Whose yielding weakness softly claims
The gentle hand of care.
The love that sparkles in her e'e,
And in her bosom glows,
Still renders doubly dear to me
My own sweet Rose.
Should life her thousand ills impart,
An' grief an' cares combine,
To soothe her little throbbing heart
The grateful task be mine ;
Whatever clouds the skies deform —
Whatever tempest blows —
I'll shelter thee from every storm,
Mv own sweet Rose.
146
DUET— SAW YE JOHNNIE COMIN' ? QUO' SHE.
Words by Lady Nairne.
1st Voice Cheerfully.
Saw ye John - nie com - in1 ? quo' she, Saw ye John - nie com - in' ?
Saw ye John-nie com-in'? quo" she, Saw ye Johnnie com - in'? Wi' his blue
Fee him, father, fee him, quo she,
Fee him, father, fee him ;
Fee him, father, fee him, quo' she,
Fee him, father, fee him ;
For he is a gallant lad,
And a weel doin' ;
And a' the wark about the house
Gaes wi' me when I see him, quo' she,
Wi' me when I see him.
What will I do wi' him, hizzie?
What will I do wi' him ?
He's ne'er a sark upon his back,
And I ha'e nane to gi'e him.
I ha'e twa sarks into my kist,
And ane o' them I'll gi'e him,
And for a merk o' mair fee
Dinna stand wi' him, quo' she,
Dinna stand wi' him.
For weel do I lo'e him, quo' she,
Weel do I lo'e him ;
For weel do I lo'e him, quo' she,
Weel do I lo'e him.
0 fee him, father, fee him, quo' she,
Fee him, father, fee him ;
He'll haud the pleugh, thrash in the barn,
And crack wi' me at e'enin', quo' she,
And crack wi' me at e'enin'.
147
JENNY'S BAWBEE.
Words by Sir Alexander Boswell.
-It-
met four chaps yon Turks a-mang, Wi' hing - ing lugs and
fa - ces lang : I spier'd at nee - hour Baul-dy Strang, Wha's they I
as the deil, And here they cam'
The first, a Captain to his trade,
Wi' skull ill-lined, but back weel-clad,
March'd round the barn, and by the shed,
And pappit on his knee:
Quo' he, "My goddess, nymph, and queen,
Your beauty's dazzled baith my een ! "
But deil a beauty he had seen
But— Jenny's bawbee.
A Lawyer neist, wi' blatherin' gab,
Wha speeches wove like ony wab,
In ilk ane's corn aye took a dab,
And a' for a fee.
Accounts he owed through a' the toun,
And tradesmen's tongues nae mair could
drown,
But now he thocht to clout his gown
Wi' Jenny's bawbee.
A Norland Laird neist trotted up,
Wi' bawsand naig and siller whup,
Cried, " There's my beast, lad, haud the
Or tie't till a tree; [g™P»
What's gowd to me? — I've walth o' Ian'!
Bestow on ane o' worth your han' ! " —
Pie thocht to pay what he wras awn
Wi' Jenny's bawbee.
to steal Jen-ny's baw-bee.
Drest up just like the knave o' clubs,
A thing came neist, (but life has rubs,)
Foul were the roads, and fu' the dubs,
And jaupit a' was he.
He danc'd up, squinting thro' a glass,
And grinn'd, " I' faith, a bonnie lass ! "
He thought to win, wi' front o' brass,
Jenny's bawbee.
She bade the Laird gae kame his wig,
The Sodger no to strut sae big,
The Lawyer no to be a prig,
The fool, he cried, " Tehee !
I kenn'd that I could never fail ! ' '
But she preen'd the dishclout to his
tail,
And soused him wi' the water- pail,
And kept her bawbee.
* Then Johnnie cam', a lad o' sense,
Although he had na mony pence ;
And took young Jenny to the spence,
Wi' her to crack a wee.
Now Johnnie was a clever chiel,
And here his suit he press' d sae weel,
That Jenny's heart grew saft as jeel,
And she birled her bawbee.
* As the last stanza does not appear in the copies of this song published during the lifetime
of Sir Alexander Boswell, it is uncertain whether he is the author of it.
148
Words by T. Elliott.
Cheerfully.
ROW, LADS, ROW— Clyde Boat Song.
Music by A. Ilnme.
-iZ C
1
Leave the ci - ty's
:t=:
sy throng, Dip the oar and wake the song;
P=>
p=p— =e=k
;.^^4
on Cath-kin
the moon Ri - ses with
-5"
Haiicl the boom of ev'n - ing bells Trem-bles thro' the leaf - y dells.
Air. p f
Row,lads,row! row, lyds, row! While the golden ev- en-tide Lingers o'er the vale of Clyde.
Alto, p f
3— -H-+
m
SHSi
^^igp^^^^^^^i
Row, lads, row ! row, lads, row 1 While the golden ev-en - tide Lingers o'er the vale of Clyde
V f
EE3
P^P^i
Row,
pp
row, lads, row ! Up the Clyde with the tide,
cres. f s^
Row, lads, row!
r=z
Row,
pp
lads, row 1 row, lads, row ! Up the Clyde with the tide,
149
Life's a river, deep and old,
Stemm'd by rowers brave and bold ;
Now in shadow, then in light,
Onward aye, a thing of might.
Sons of A Ibyn's ancient land,
Row with strong and steady hand.
Row, lads, row ! row, lads, row !
Gaily row and cheery sing
Till the woodland echoes ring —
Eow, lads, row ! row, lads, row !
Up the Clyde with the tide,
Row, lads, row !
Hammers on the anvils rest — '
Dews upon the gowan's breast —
Young hearts heave with tender thought-
Low winds sigh, with odours fraught —
Stars bedeck the blue above —
Earth is full of joy and love.
Row, lads, row ! row, lads, row !
Let your oars in concert beat
Time, like merry dancers' feet.
Row, lads, row ! row, lads, row !
Up the Clyde with the tide,
Row, lads, row !
JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.
First and last Stanzas by Burns.
Slotv, with feeling.
snaw, But bless -ings on your fros - ty pow, John An - der - son, my jo.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When Nature first began
To try her canny hand, John,
Her master-wark was man ;
And you, amang the lave, John,
Sae trig frae tap to toe —
She prov'd hersel' nae journey- wark,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty da}', John,
We've had wi' ane anither;
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And we'll sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
150
JEANIE'S NAE MAIR— Prize Song, No. I.
Words by Miss Young. Music by A. Hume.
Slmv und with much feeling.
an' sleet war - stle hard in the air; An' cauld is my hame-stead, but
mm^^mE^
cauld - er my bo-som, An' thow-less my heart, for my Jean-ie's nae main
^^^^^=mm
^^^
The pride o' my heart, and the joy o' my bo - som, She kept my
Ballentando. a tempo.
auld days free frae sor-row and care; But she's gane from my sight, like a
rail.
frost nip -pit blos-som, And gane are my joys since my Jean-ie's nae mair.
I hear na her silv'ry voice ring thro' the hallar,
Wi' music as sweet as the saft simmer air,
Nor hear her licht fitfa' steal roun' in the gloamin' —
An' ilk thing looks dreary since Jeanie's nae mair.
It's no that the warld's grown darker or drearer —
It's no that its flowers are bloomin' less fair;
But my life's sun's gane down, an' nae mair can they cheer me
It's aye gloamin' round me since Jeanie's nae mair.
The sunbeams shoot over the ocean's dark bosom,
Like glints o' the glory that's shinin' up by,
An' the ebb o' the wave comes like sabs o' emotion,
Betiding the time I maun heave my last sigh.
Like a storm-rifted tree to the grave I maun dauner,
Nae kind heart to cheer, or my sorrow to share ;
But I'll aye keep a thocht to the world that's aboon us,
An' I ken that my Jeanie will welcome me there.
151
THE ATJLD INGLESIDE— Prize Song, No. II.
Words by James Macfarlan, Music by T. S. Gljadhill.
Slow'y, with feeling.
youth on the hal-low'd hearth stane, And the day nev - er dull and the
gp^^g^^g^l^
acre
t=tr-
nicht nev-er lang. When the wan - der - ing wives, wi' their wal-lets o' fun,
l^pg^pp^
m
And their duds frae the drift o' the cauld win-ter dried, Cam' doit -er- ing ben,
how the cal-lants wad rin Their sto-ries to hear, by the auld in - gle - side.
By the auld ingleside, i' the muckle arm-chair,
Wi* his auld-farrant crack, sat our grandfather sage,
And the red e'enin' lowe, as it fell on his hair,
Aft wad melt into mirth a' the snaws o' his age ;
But we miss'd him at last, when the gloamin' cam' doon
'Mang the gowd o' the hairst and the corn waving wide —
0, his blessin' he gied, as he lookit aboon,
And died in our arms by the auld ingleside.
0, the auld ingleside I can never forget —
The young loupin' heart, and the bricht rollin' e'e,
And the frien's o' langsyne that sae happy ha'e met,
Wha noo are adrift owre the waves o' the sea.
I ha'e sang by the burn, I ha'e danc'd on the green,
I ha'e sat in the ha' amid beauty and pride;
But oh ! for ae blink o' that life's early scene,
The low o' langsyne bv the auld ingleside.
132
PHffiBTJS, WP GOWDEN CREST— Prize Song, No. III.
Words by C. J. Finlayson. Air adapted from an old Galloway Melody.
^^^j^j^H
6=*
PI103 - bus, wi' gowd - en crest, leaves o-cean's heav - ing breast, An' frae the
1=£
S
:d=p
-• a-^ — j — E:
pur -pie east smiles on the day; Lav 'rocks wi'blythesome strain, mount frae the
7 h-
dew - y plain, Greenwood an' rock -y glen e - cho their lay; Wild flow'rs wi'
4=t=
_;_t:
op'n -ing blooms woo il - ka breeze that comes, Scat-t'ring their rich per -fumes
SE
^^g^g
^-+— f
■y-T
the
But sum-mer's var - ied dye, lark's song, an'
:&
breez - es' sigh, On - ly bring sor - row and sad - ness
Blighted, like autumn's leaf, ilk joy is chang'd to grief,
Day smiles around, but no pleasure can gi'e ;
Night, on his sable wings, sweet rest to nature brings —
Sleep to the weary, but waukin' to me.
Aften has warldly care wrung my sad bosom sair —
Hope's visions fled me, an ' friendships untrue ;
But a' the ills o' fate never could thus create
Anguish like parting, d3ar Annie, frae you.
Farewell those beaming eyes, stars in life's wintry side?,
Aft has adversity fled frae your ray;
Farewell that angel smile, stranger to woman's wile,
That ever could beguile sorrow away ;
Farewell ilk happy scene, wild wood an' valley green,
Where time, on rapture's wing, over us flew ;
Farewell that peace of heart thou only could'st impart —
Farewell, dear Annie ! a long, long adieu !
153
DUET:— BEHOLD THE HOUR THE BOAT ARRIVE.
Words by Burns. Arranged for this work by A. Hume. Gaelic Air,— Oran gaoil.
iRt Voice. Slow and with great feeling.
=3^
*£
«=^p-
£4*
i=fc±Hh=fc
»>/ Be ^ hold the hour, the boat
2d Voice.
ar - rive, Thou go - est, thou dar-ling of my
3MF
^^^^1
iipl^g^i^
Be-hold the hour, the boat ar-rive, Thou go-est, thou darling of my
^fe
(^^n^gpapm^i
heart; Ah ! sever'd from thee can I sur-vive? But fate has will'd, and wenrastpart.
heart ; Ah ! sever'd from thee can I survive ? But fate has will'd, and we must part.
^^=^^^^^E^^^
I'll oft - en greet this surg-ing swell, Yon dis-tant isle will oft- en hail; E'en
I'U oft - en greet this surg-ing swell, Yon dis - tant isle will oft -en hail; E'en
P
^pis£p^^=^pi!
sn 1 >-j \-m it-
here I took the last fare-well, There la - test mark'd her van -ish'd sail.
p dim. ^
*=§m^m=£=jm$=m
here I took the last fare-well, There la - test mark'd her van-iih'd sail.
Along the solitary shore, Happy, thou Indian grove, I'll say,
While flitting sea-fowl round me cry, Where now my Nancy's path may be?
Across the rolling, dashing roar, While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray,
I'll westward turn my wistful eye. 0 tell me, does she muse on me?
154
ROW THEE WEEL, MY BONNIE BUILT WHERRY.
Poetry by Robert Allan. Music by J. P. Clark.
3=i^^
■■*=$•-
a^=*g=?
Now row thee weel, my bon-nie built wher - ry, I've row'd thee lang, and
with thee been mer - ry
I've row'd thee late, and I've row'd thee ear-
BE
15 e 5 LTT
^f— ^
zfc^
I've row'd o'er the frith Loch - iel and Prince Char - lie; Then
:?ift
row, row
thee, my bon - nie built wher - ry, Then row thee weel, my
bon - nie built wher - ry.
Row, row thee, my ben - nie built
lo-
wlier - ry, I've row'd thee lang and with thee been mer - ry.
My wherry was built for the gallant and brave,
She dances sae light o'er the bonnie white wave —
She dances sae light through the cloud and the haze,
And steers by the light of the watch-fire blaze.
Then row, row thee, my bonnie built wherry, &c.
But a' that I lov'd on earth is gane,
And I and my wherry are left alane ;
The blast is blawn that bore them aw a' —
But there is a day that's comin' for a'.
Then row, row thee, my bonnie built wherry, &c.
155
0 WHA'S AT THE WINDOW, WHA, WHA ?
Words by Alexander Carlile. Music by R. A. Smith.
^=g^s£EE^^g=
0 wha's at the win - dow, wha, wha? 0 wha's at the win-dow,
^mm%^^
wha, wha? Wha but blythe Ja - mie Glen, He's come sax miles and ten, To
tak' bon-nie Jean-ie a - wa\ a - wa', To tak' bon-nie Jean-ie a - wa\
He has plighted his troth an' a', an' a',
Leal love to gie an' a', an' a' ;
And sae has she done,
By a' that's aboon,
For he lo'es her, she lo'es him, 'boon a', 'boon a'
He lo'es her, she lo'es him, 'boon a'.
Bridal maidens are braw, braw,
Bridal maidens are braw, braw ;
But the bride's modest e'e,
An' warm cheek are to me,
'Boon pearlins and brooches, an' a', an a',
'Boon pearlins and brooches, an' a'.
There's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha',
There's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha',
There's laughing, there's quaffing,
There's jesting, there's daffing,
And the bride's father's blythest of a', of a',
And the bride's father's blythest of a'.
It's no that she's Jamie's ava, ava,
It's no that she's Jamie's ava, ava,
That my heart is sae eerie,
When a' the lave's ch eerie,
But it's just that she'll aye be awa', ai\a',
But it's just that she'll aye be awa'.
Inserted by permission of Mr. Joseph M'Fadyen.
153
DUET:— ROY'S WIFE OF ALDIVALLOCH.
Words by Mrs, Grant of Carron. Music by Neil Govt. Arranged for this work by A. Hume.
Treble. Moderate.
Roy's wife of Al - di - val - loch, Roy*s wife of Al - di - val - loch,
Roy's wife of Al - di - val - loch, Roy's wife of Al - di - val - loch,
irv-f—r
'v ;, - — n
m * J-
' Wat ye
rrtf=P — «-
how
— K-
she cheat -ed me As I
cam' o'er the braes o' Bal -loch.
§? - v
Wat ye
-ft-8.- fen — k-
how
she cheat - ed me As I
__ffl —4—-£ * . 4 «* V-\
cam' o'er the braes o' Bal - loch.
—fen — K = :
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She vow'd,
she
swore she wad
f>~r~i — f*~
be mine, She
said she lo'ed me
r • g — p-^-f-
best
*-
Of
'©ljeh
_lfc_.
__£ 1 ESr-
-iSL— i, ^
T^^— fc=fc=
* •
P*-
j
She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine, She said she lo'edfme best of
o - ny; But oh! the fick - le, faith-less quean, She's ta'en the carle, and
o - ny; But oh! the fick - le, faith-less quean, She's ta'en the carle, and
rr\ quicker.
lcft her Johnnie. 0, Roy's wife of Al-di-val-loch, Roy's wife of Al-di-val-loch,
left her Johnnie. 0, Roy's wife of Al-di-val-loch, Roy's wife of Al-di-val-loch,
157
&+_ N—
Wat ye bow she cheat-ed me, As I cam' o'er the braes o' Bal-loch.
Wat ye how she cheat - ed me, As
cam' o'er the braes o' Bal-lcch.
0, she was a canty quean,
And weel could dance the Highland walloch :
How happy I, had she been mine,
Or I'd been Roy of Aldivalloch.
Roy's wife, &c.
Her hair sae fair, her een sae clear,
Her wee bit mou' sae sweet and bonnie ;
To me she ever will be dear,
Though she's for ever left her Johnnie.
Roy's wife, &c.
THOUGH YOU LEAVE ME NOW IN SORROW.
Same Air.
To be sung in slow time, with great feeling.
Though you leave me now in sorrow,
Smiles may light our love to-morrow,
Doom'd to part, my faithful heart
A gleam of joy from hope shall borrow.
Ah ! ne'er forget, when friends are near,
This heart alone is thine for ever ;
Thou may'st find those will love thee dear,
But not a love like mine, O never !
Note.— When duets are introduced into this work, the melodies invariably retain their
original simplicity, and may be sung as solos, if desired. We are pleased to learn from our
numerous correspondents, that the plan of thus arranging our national melodies as duets,
has met with such hearty approbation.— [Ed. L.G.S.]
pm
158
IN SCOTLAND THERE LIV'D A HUMBLE BEGGAR.
£
Soot -land there liv'd a hum - ble heg - gar, Nae house, nae
0^1 — . p_
m» P » *
* a a a «■-•■ a
§2 — p — P—
— Es — * — t—- ^—
=* tz==tz if b k-J
hald, nor hame had he; But he was weel lik - ed by
il - ka bo -die, And they gied him sun-kets and saps to piee.
A neivefu' o' meal, and a handfu o' groats,
A daud o' a bannock, or herring bree,
Cauld parritch, or the lickings o' plates,
Wad mak' him as blythe as a beggar could be.
This beggar he was a humble beggar,
The feint a bit o' pride had he ;
Pie wad a ta'en his awms in a bicker
Frae gentleman or puir bodie.
His wallets ahint and afore did hing,
In as good order as wallets could be ;
A lang kail-gully hung down by his side,
And a meikle nowt-horn to rout on had he.
It happen'd ill, it happen' d waur,
It happen'd sae that he did dee ;
And wha do ye think was at his late-wake,
But lads and lasses o' high degree.
Some were blj'the, and some were sad,
And some they played at blind Harrie ;
But suddenly up started the auld carle,
" I rede you ! good folks, tak' tent o' me."
Up gat Kate that sat i* the nook,
"Vow limmer, and how do ye?"
Up he gat, and ca'd her a limmer,
And ruggit and tuggit her cockernonie.
They houkit his grave in Duket's kirk-yard,
E'en fair fa' the companie :
But when they were gaun to lay him i' the yird,
The feint a dead nor dead was he.
159
And when the)' brought him to Duket's kirk- yard,
He dunted on the kist, the boards did flee ;
And when they were gaun to lay him i' the yird,
In fell the kist and out lap he.
He cried "I'm cauld, I'm unco cauld:"
Fu' fast ran the folk, and fu' fast ran he ;
But he was first hame at his ain ingle-side,
And he helped to drink his ain dregie.
THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE.
Words by Robert Allan. Music by John TurnbulL
P
There grew in bon - nie Scot-land a this - tie and a brier; And
aye they twined and clas - ped like sis - ters kind and dear.
The rose it was sae bon -nie, it could ilk bo-som charm; the
j J', p • S4-F-S
^-H^J
i3=aSJ=t=a— 3
this - tie spread its thor - ny leaf to keep the rose from harm.
A bonnie laddie tended the rose baith aire and late,
He watered it, and fanned it, and wove it wi' his fate ;
And the leal hearts of Scotland prayed it might never fa',
The thistle was sae bonnie green, the rose sae like the snaw.
But the weird sisters sat where hope's fair emblems grew,
They drapt a drap upon the rose o' bitter blasting dew ;
And aye they twined the mystic thread, but ere their task was done,
The snaw-white rose it disappeared, it withered in the sun.
A bonnie laddie tended the rose baith aire and late,
He watered it, and fanned it, and wove it wi' his fate ;
But the thistle tap it withered, winds bore it far awa',
And Scotland's heart was broken for the rose sae like the snaw.
1G0
THE WOODS 0* DTTNMORE.
Music by James Jaap.
E^GE^Efe"
:35 — ^ — j>-t= b — | c:
g^ j =] — ^ ^_
This lone heart is thine, las - sie, charm-in g and fair, This
pippin
fr— g
=
1 '
char; Nae world's gear hae I, nae
fjnd heart is thine, las ■
Si
?
p^^F=g=^
ox - en nor kye,
I've nae - thing, dear las - sie,
pure heart to gi'e. Yet din - na s.iy me na, but
*=v
i=£
p=*
a - wa, An'
wan - der, dear las - sie, 'mang the woods o'
m^^^^^^m
m
-t?
more. An' wan -der, dear las - sie, 'mang the woods o' - - - Dun-more.
H3
0 sweet is thy voice, lassie, charming an' fair,
Enchanting thy smile, lassie dear ;
I'll toil aye for thee, for ae blink o' thine e'e
Is pleasure mair sweet than siller to me.
Yet dinna say me na, &c.
0 come to my arms, lassie, charming an' fair,
Awa' wild alarms, lassie dear ;
This fond heart an' thine like ivy shall twine,
I'll lo'e thee, dear lassie, till the day that I dee.
0 dinna say me na, &c.
Words by William Paul.
161
BONNIE JEANIE GRAY.
Music by Richard Webster.
Gray? Your mitb-er miss'd ye late at e'en
And eke at break o'
expres.
bon-nie Jean-ie Gray.
I've marked that lonely look o' thine,
My bonnie Jeanie Gray;
I've kent your kindly bosom pine
This mony, mony day.
Ha'e hinnied words o' promise lured
Your guileless heart astray ?
Oh, dinna hide your grief frae me,
My bonnie Jeanie Gray.
Dear sister, sit ye down by me,
And let naebody ken,
For I ha'e promised late yestreen
To wed young Jamie Glen.
The melting tear stood in his e'e,
What heart could say him nay ?
As aft he vow'd, through life I'm thine,
My bonnie Jeanie Gray.
The first and last stanzas of this favourite song were written by William Paul, Glasgow;
the second stanza is from the pen of William Thorn, the Inverury poet The song is inserted
by the permission of the representatives of the late Mr. Paul
162
I WINNA GANG BACK TO MY MAMMY AGAIN.
Words by Richard GalL Music by T. S. Gleadhill.
I win - na gang back to my mam-my i
I win - na gang back to my mam-my a-gain, I'll nev-er gang back to my
mam-my a - gain, I've held by her a - pron these aught years and ten, But I'll
I
— 35 — q:=35- — — js— *
nev-er gang back to my mam-my a-gain. 1
've held by her a - pron these
rallentando.
fcfc*=±=-=f=iP=^
-E=fc
«— i — *— s—
*r * ' — ? f-1
V
aught years and ten, But I'll nev - er gang back to my mam-my a - gain.
Young Johnnie cam' down i' the gloamin' to woo,
Wi' plaidie sae bonnie, an' bannet sae blue :
"O come awa', lassie, ne'er let mammy ken;"
An' I flew wi' my laddie o'er meadow an' glen.
O come awa', lassie, &c.
He ca'd me his dawtie, his dearie, his dow,
An' press'd hame his words wi' a smack o' my mou';
While I fell on his bosom, heart-flichtered an' fain,
An' sigh'd out, "O Johnnie, I'll aye be your ain!"
While I fell on his bosom, &c.
Some lasses will talk to the lads wi' their e'e,
Yet hanker to tell what their hearts really dree ;
Wi' Johnnie I stood upon nae stappin'-stane,
Sae I'll never gang back to my mammy again.
Wi' Johnnie I stood, &c.
For many lang years sin' I play'd on the lea,
My mammy was kind as a mither could be ;
I've held by her apron these aught years an' ten,
But I'll never gang back to my mammy again.
I've held by her apron, &c.
163
QUEEN MARY'S ESCAPE FROM LOCHLEVEN CASTLE.
Words by Kobert Allan. Highland Boat Air.
Moderate.
i^i^^g^lp^=E
=£*
.$»
- -^s - i^^ -m- -w - -
Put off, put off, and row with speed, For now is the time and the
'.To oars, to oars, and trim the bark, Nor Scot-land's
^PJ^^EJJJ^^^=g=i
queen be
war - der's mark. Yon light that plays round the cas - tie's
l=E=l^feggg="^g^NM^g
SE3*
-si-
moat, Is on - ly the war - der's ran-dom shot ; Put off, put off, and
row with speed, For now is the time and the hour of need!
Those pond'rous keys * shall the kelpies keep,
And lodge in their caverns dark and deep ;
Nor shall Lochleven's towers or hall,
Hold thee, our lovely lady, in thrall ;
Or be the haunt of traitors, sold,
While Scotland has hands and hearts so bold:
Then steersmen, steersmen, on with speed,
For now is the time and the hour of need !
Hark ! the alarum bell hath rung,
And the warder's voice hath treason sung!
The echoes to the falconet's roar,
Chime sweetly to the dashing oar :
Let tower, and hall, and battlements gleam,
We steer by the light of the taper's beam ;
For Scotland and Mary, on with speed,
Now, now is the time and hour of need !
* The keys here alluded to, were lately found by some fishermen, and are now in the pos-
session of a Kinross-shire laird.
164
COMIN» THROUGH THE CRAIGS 0' KYLE.
Words by Jean Glover. Air— O'er the Muir amang the Heather. The Chorus arranged
for this work by A. Hume.
Lively.
g^jp^^EfefzE^
Corn-in' thro* the craigs o' Kyle, A-mang the bon - nie bloom-in' heath - er,
^-rT^-H?r-7=H=£=E=^^^^p
There I met a bon - nie las - sie,
in' a' her ewes the-gith - er.
— * a— — P m-
— b« F v. r^
\z=^—^-l-^^^=^^^.
O'er the muir a-mang the heather, O'er the muir a - mang the heath - er,
There I met a bon - nie las - sie Keep - ing a' her ewes the - gith - er.
Chorus.
O'er the muir a-mang the heath - er, O'er the muir a - mang the heath - er,
O'er the muir a - mang the heath - er, O'er the muir a - mang the heath - er,
^^^^^^^ig
There I met a bon - nie las - sie Keep -ing a' her ewes the- gith -er,
WFmmm&&=s=*^
There I met a bon - nie las - sie Keep- ing a' her ewes the - gith - er,
ggasjgs^SE^^^^^^^Fffl
There I met a bon - nie las - sie Keep-ing a' her ewes the - gith - er.
165
Says I, my dear, where is thy hame?
In muir, or dale, pray tell me whether ?
Says she, I tent thae fleecy flocks
That feed amang the blooming heather. — O'er the muir, &c.
We sat us down upon a bank,
Sae warm and sunny was the weather :
She left her flocks at large to rove
Amang the bonnie blooming heather O'er the muir, &c.
She charmed my heart, and aye sinsyne
I couldna think on ony ither ;
By sea and sky ! she shall be mine,
The bonnie lass amang the heather. — O'er the muir, &c.
BONNIE MAEY HAY.
Words by Archibald Crawford.
With feeling.
Music by R. A. Smith.
Bon - nie Ma - ry Hay,
I will lo'e thee yet, For thy
e'e is the
rose is thy cheek: 0 bon - nie Ma - ry Hay,
will lo'e thee yet.
Bonnie Mary Hay, will ye gang wi* me,
When the sun is in the west, to the hawthorn tree ?
To the hawthorn tree, in the bonnie berry den,
And I'll tell ye, Mary Hay, how I lo'e ye then.
Bonnie Mary Hay, it's haliday to me
When thou art sae couthie, kind-hearted, an' free ;
There's nae clouds in the lift nor storms in the sky,
O bonnie Mary Hay, when thou art nigh.
Bonnie Mary Hay, thou maunna say me nay,
But come to the bower by the hawthorn brae ;
But come to the bower, and I'll tell ye a' that's true,
How, Mary, I can ne'er lo'e ane but you.
Words by Allan Ramsay.
Treble.
166
LOCHABER NO MORE.
Gaelic Air— Arranged for this work by A Hume.
Fare - weel to Loch
j Bass.
- a - ber, fare - weel to
my Jean, Where
K=p==fEEM£f
=^=^==+=fz
-tf=:-=}p-£=^z
Fare - weel to Loch - a - ber, fare - weel to my Jean, Where
heart-some wi' her I ha'e mo - ny days been; To Loch- a -ber no
more, to Loch - a - ber no
more, We'll may - be re-
Br^mr^rS££#±£F^
more, to Loch - a - ber no
more, to Loch - a - ber no
more, We'll may - be re-
more, We'll may - be re-
167
turn to Loch - a - ber no more. These tears that I
fc=^^g:
i=§=
turn to Loch - a - her no more. These tears that I
shed, they are a' for my dear, And no for the dan - gers at-
^^^M^^#fN^H^
shed, they ar<
for my dear, And no for the dan - gers
l^^^^^^g^
shed, they are a' for my dear, And no for the dan - gers at-
tending on weir; Tho* borne on rough seas to a far dis - tant
ggg^P^fefesp^^l^E
tend-ing on weir ; Tho" borne on rough seas to a far dis - tant
shore, May - be to re - turn to Loch
ber no more.
^^^m^^^^m
May - be to re - turn to Loch - a - ber no mor<
shore, May - be to
turn to Loch
1G8
Though hurricanes rise, and raise ev'ry wind,
They'll ne'er make a tempest like that in my mind ;
Though loudest of thunders on louder waves roar,
That's naething like leaving my love on the shore.
To leave thee behind me, my heart is sair pain'd ;
But by ease so inglorious no fame can be gain'd ;
And beauty and love's the reward of the brave :
And I maun deserve it before I can crave.
Then glory, my Jeanie, maun plead my excuse :
Since honour commands me, how can I refuse ?
Without it, I ne'er can have merit for thee ;
And, losing thy favour, I'd better not be.
I gae, then, my lass, to win glory and fame ;
And if I should chance to come glorious hamer
I'll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er,
And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more.
HATJD AWA' FRAE ME, DONALD.
Words by Kobert Allan.
Moderate.
Sfc
S
mm
as^=S3^
!=^
:j2;
m
Haud a - wa\ bide a - wa\ Haud a - wa' frae me, Do-nald ; What care I for
m
tak' your plaid, and o'er the hill
My Jamie is a gallant youth,
I lo'e but him alane, Donald :
And in bonnie Scotland's isle
Like him there is nane, Donald.
Haud awa', &c.
He wears nae plaid, nor tartan hose,
Nor garters at his knee, Donald ;
And stay nae lang - er here, Do-nald.
B.C.
But, 0 ! he wears a faithfu' heart,
And love blinks in his e'e, Donald.
Sae haud awa,' bide awa',
Come nae mair at e'en, Donald ;
I wadna break my Jamie's heart
To be a Highland queen, Donald.
169
I'LL HAE MY COAT 0' GUDE SNUFF-BROWN.
Written by Sir Alex. Boswell of Auchinleck. Air— The Auld Gudenmn.
Allegretto.
^p^gg^E^E^
Laird. — I'll hae my coat o' gude snuff-brown, My pouther'd wig to co - ver my
pg^g^^^p|^g^=p^^^^
crown; I'll deck me, Meg, an' busk me fine, I'm gaun to court a tocher'd quean.
Meg.— Your ho -sens, laird, are baith to darn, Your best sark's bleach-in' (that's but
ham), Your coat's a' stour, your wig's to kame, Troth, laird, you'd bet - ter stay at hame.
Laird. — Auld Punch will carry Jock, the lad,
I'll ride mysel' the lang-tail'd yad,
Wi' pistols at my saddle-tree,
Weel mounted as a laird should be.
Meg. — There's peats to cast, the hay's to cuile,
The yad's run owre the muir a mile ;
The saddle's stown, auld Punch is lame,
'Deed, laird, ye'd better bide at hame.
Think, laird, a wee an' look about,
Your gear's a' thrivin' in an' out ;
I'm wae to see ye courtin' dule,
Wha kens but this same quean's a fool.
Laird. — Aye, aye, your drift's no ill to tell,
Ye fain wad hae me, Meg, yoursel' ;
But sure as Blutterlog's my name,
I'll court the lass, an' bring her hame.
g2
170
DUET— WAKE, MARY, WAKE!
For two Trebles or two Tenors.
Music by A. Hume.
i
Wake, Ma-ry, wakel the ris - ing
mf
its:
sun To paint the hill -top has
■^ K
:±sTrriz±iad : ■ ^z^r=* 1 — •-» " ^ — < \r
gun; To paint the hill -top has he -gun; The ear - ly lark, on
"» !-— r— 1 ■
^m
gun; To paint the hill- top has be -gun; The ear - ly lark, on
dew - y wing, Ris - es his ma - tin song to sing, his
on ev
ry spray, Hail, blithe ly hail the
171
com - ing day.
on ev' - ry spray,
r rv
-L - - — v-
^=^m
blithe - ly hail the com - ing day. Hail, blithe - ly hail the
-ing day. Wake, Ma - ry, wake! Wake, Ma - ry, wake!
Wake, Ma -ry, wake ! such scenes as these Will well re-pay thy loss of ease ; Will
=^i=s
Wake! such scenes as these Will well re-pay thy loss of ease; Will
well re-pay thy loss of ease; The liv-ing woods, the danc-ing streams, \ro
Plip^^iii^^
well re-pay thy loss of ease; The liv-ing woods, the danc-ing streams, Are
172
love-li-cr far than morn- ing dreams, are love-lier, lovelier far,
far than morn - ing dreams; are love-lier
far than morn - ing dreams.
long - er then in
?=f=9:
1=3=
=g=g3=«e
E*
far than morn - ing dreams
way, No
long - er
stay, Wake
=|5=q=£flC
way,
slum - her stay,
173
^^^m
Wake, Mary, wake ! and come a - way.
Wake, Ma - ry, wake ! and
come, come a- way. Wake, Ma - ry, wake ! Wake, Ma - ry, wake !
peippppl^
come, Cuine a -way. Wake, Ma - ry, wake! Wake, Ma - ry, wake!
Inserted in this work by the kind permission of Messrs. Gall and Inglis, Edinburgh.
THE BONNIE MORNIN' AFTER THE RAIN.
Words by James Smith. Music by A. Hume.
Cheerfully.
The nicht had been rain - y, but fair was the morn-in', Bright shone the
M
sun, come- ly Na - ture a-dorn-ing, Sweet bloom'd the dais - y yon
bon - nie sim - mer morn-in', An' fra - grant the green dew - y plain ;
V ' ' — (7 f )r
Saft to their min - nies the wee lambs were moan-in', Fond 'mid the
flow'r-ets the wild bee was dron-in', As Ka-tie sat milk- in' her
kye i' the loan - in', Yon bon - nie morn
-in af -
ter the rain.
174
Dark waved her locks owre her fair neck sae slender;
Bricht beamed her e'e, like the sun in its splendour ;
Snawy her bosom, sae cornel}' an' tender,
An' pure as the lily o' the plain.
I took her i' my arms, an' I ca'd her my dearie,
Her face was sae bonnie, my heart felt sae cheerie; —
I took her i' my arms, an' I ca'd her my dearie,
Yon bonnie mornin1 after the rain !
O fair are yon meadows, where aft I've gaen roamin'
For mony a sweet hour, wi' my lass i' the gloamin' ;
But fairer — 0 fairer the bonnie green loanin',
"Where she whispered her heart was my ain!
Sweetly she blush'd like the rose wi' emotion ;
Fondly I seal'd wi' a kiss my devotion; —
Sweetly she blush'd like the rose wi' emotion,
Yon bonnie mornin* after the rain !
Though fortune wi' me has been scant wi' her measure,
Yet ne'er will I envy her care-laden treasure ;
Sae lang as the queen o' my hame gi'es me pleasure,
O' nocht will I ever complain ;
For aye when I'm dowie, down-hear tit, and weary,
Her sweet sunny smile mak's me lichtsome and cheerie,
Sae weel I'll remember the trj'st wi' my dearie,
Yon bonnie mornin' after the rain !
Words by Lord Byron.
With animation.
AWAY, YE GAY LANDSCAPES.
1 7 " tTv^f .
Yet, Ca - le - don - ia, dear are thy mountains, Round their white summits tho'
175
^rtgmg^n
OP 1 k — ---— y-^p-
- ta - racts foam 'stead of smooth-flow-ing
/Z\ -^Adagio.
A^r
E^=
foun-tains,
sigh
dark Loch- na-
Ah ! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd,
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid ;
On chieftains departed my memory pondered,
As daily I stray'd through the pine-cover' d glade.
I sought not my home till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star,
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,
Disclos'd by the natives of dark Loch-na-garr.
Shades of the dead, have I not heard your voices
Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale ?
Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,
And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale.
Round Loch-na-garr while the stormy mist gathers,
Winter presides in his cold icy car ;
Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers !
They dwell 'mid the tempests of dark Loch-na-garr.
Ill starr'd, though brave, did no vision foreboding,
Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?
Ah ! were ye then destined to die at Culloden,
Though victory crown'd not your fall with applause?
Still were ye happy in death's earthy slumbers ;
You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar ;
The pibroch resounds to the piper's loud numbers,
Your deeds to the echoes of wild Loch-na-garr.
Years have roll'd on, Loch-na-garr, since I left you !
Years must elapse ere I see you again ;
Though nature of verdure and flowers has bereft you,
Yet still thou art dearer than Albion's plain.
England, thy beauties are tame and domestic
To one who has rov'd on the mountains afar !
Oh ! for the crags that are wild and majestic,
The steep frowning glories of dark Loch-na-garr !
176
FAREWELL, THOU FAIR DAY.
Words by Burns. My Lodging is on the Cold Ground.
Arranged for this work by A. Hume.
Air. Slow, with expression.
Fare - well, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the
Fare - well, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the
Fare - well, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the
E5 ! i 55qr=q^=qs
^=^
broad set -ting sun; Fare - well, loves and friendships, ye dear, ten-der
p^^^^F^
broad set -• ting sun ; Fare - well, loves and friendships, ye dear, ten-der
broad set -ting sun; Fa"e - well, loves and friendships, ye dear, ten-der
gj^^jjgjfete^il
ties, Our race of ex - is - tence is run. Thou grim king of ter-rors, thou
ties, Our race of ex - is - tence is run. Thou grim king of ter-rors, thou
ft Si
ties, Our race of ex - is - tence is run.
177
z'a gloom-y foe, Go, fright-en the cow - ard and slave, Go, teach them to
life's gloom-y foe, Go, fright-en the cow - ard and slave, Go, teach, them to
Go, fright-en the cow - ard and slave, Go, teach them to
trem-ble, fell ty - rant, but know, No ter-rors hast thou to the brave.
trem-ble, fell ty - rant, but know, No ter - rors hast thou to the brave.
trem-ble, fell ty-rant, but know, No ter-rors hast thou to the brave.
Thou strik'st the dull peasant — he sinks in the dark,
Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name ;
Thou strik'st the young hero — a glorious mark!
He falls in the blaze of his fame.
In the field of proud honour — our swords in our hands,
Our king and our country to save —
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
Oh ! who would not die with the brave ?
Solo, 1st Treble. Moderate.
178
SOLO, DUET, AND TRIO— THE BOATIE ROWS.
Arranged for this work by T. S. Gleadhil).
lie - some may the boat - ie row That wins the bair-nies' breal
The boat - ie rows, the boat - ie rows, The boat - ie rows fu' weel ; And
:fe?_EE£sS=p
mei - kle luck at - tend the boat, the mur - lain, and the creel.
Duet, 1st Treble. A little sloiver.
deeds us
a'
frae tap to tae, And buys our par-
ritch
meaL
'fek-Tr-p
1 [V, fi_,^ ^--| K fc |v-
KH d-r- *— P-»— d~=H P P J—
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p ■ ■ u VH ■ ■ ■
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deeds us a' frae tap to tae, And buys our par -ritch meaL
179
Trio, 1st Treble.
The boat-ie rows, the boat - ie rows, The boat - ie rows in -deed; And
2d Treble. a tempo. f
l^^^EE^^S^^^^^i^
The boat-ie rows, the boat - ie rows, The boat-ie rows in -deed; And
a tempo. f
The boat-ie rows, the boat-ie rows, The boat-ie rows in -deed; And
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fs— J 1 K feH \
gpsz5 — n_
hap - py
£%=* — 3^
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be the lot of a'
■ • • • •
That wish the boat - ie speed.
— ^ — f — i* J" .H-~t~ 1
hap - py
£):tt- — = - —
be the lot of a*
That wish the boat-ie speed.
^=f— 1~
— £ — p-j — f — ? — £—
-IE tir~^z^^=:
hap - py be
lot of
When Jamie vow'd he wad be mine,
And won frae me my heart,
O mickle lighter grew my creel ;
He swore we'd never part.
The boatie rows, the boatie rows,
The boatie rows fu' weel ;
And mickle lighter is the boat,
When love bears up the creel.
Bly kertch I put upon my head,
And dress' d mysel' fu' braw ;
But dowie, dowie was my heart,
When Jamie gaed awa'.
But weel may the boatie row,
And lucky be her part ;
And lightsome be the lassie's care,
That yields an honest heart
a' That wish the boat - ie speed.
When Sandy, Jock, and Janetie,
Are up an' gotten lear,
They'll help to gar the boatie row,
And lighten a' our care.
The boatie rows, the boatie rows,
The boatie rows fu' weel ;
And lightsome be her heart that bears
The murlain and her creel.
When we are auld and sair bow'd down,
And hirplin' at the door,
They'll row to keep us dry an' warm,
As we did them before.
Then weel may the boatie row,
And better may it speed ;
And happy be the lot of a'
That wish the boatie speed.
180
ALLEN-A-DALE.
Words by Sir Walter Scott. Adapted to a Border air.
From Rokeby.
Al - len - a - Dale has no fa - got for burn-ing, Al - len - a-
Dale has no fur - row for turn-ing, Al - len - a - Dale has no
fleece for the spin-ning, Yet Al - len - a - Dale has red gold for the
winning ; Come read me my rid - die and hearken my tale, And tell me the
craft of bold Al - len - a - Dale. And tell me the craft of bold Al - len - a-Dale.
The baron of Ravensworth prances in pride,
And he views his domains upon Arkindale side,
The mere for his net, and the land for his game,
The lake for the wild, and the park for the tame ;
Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale,
Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-Dale.
Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight,
Though his spur be as sharp, and his blade be as bright :
Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,
Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word ;
And the best of our nobles his bonnet will veil,
Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale.
Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come ;
The mother, she asked of his household and home ;
" Though the castle of Richmond stands fair on the hill,
My hall," quoth bold Allen, " shows gallanter still;
'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale,
And with all its bright spangles ! " said Allen-a-Dale.
181
The father was steel, and the the mother was stone ;
They lifted the latch, and they bade him begone ;
But loud on the morrow their wail and their cry !
He had laugh'd on the lass with his bonnie black eye,
And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,
And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale.
CA' THE EWES TO THE KNOWES.
y, with great expression.
the ewes to
the knowes, Ca' them whaur the heath - er grows, Ca' them
whaurthe burn-ie rows, My bon - nie dear - ie. 'Twas in the bon - nie
month o' June, When the woods a - bout us hung; When a' the
flow'rswere in their bloom, The night - in - gale sang clear - ly.
Will ye gang down the water side,
And see the waves sae sweetly glide ?
Beneath the hazels spreading wide,
The moon it shines fu' clearly.
Ca' the ewes, &c.
While waters wimple to the sea ;
While day blinks in the lift sae hie ;
Till clay-cauld death shall blind my e'e,
Ye shall be my dearie.
Ca' the ewes, &c.
182
JESSIE, THE FLOWER 0' DUMBLANE.
Words by Tannahill.
With artless simplicity.
Music by R. A. Smith.
left the red clouds to pre
o'er the scene; While lane- ly
*fc=p=
^p=S
3C=q3r
SE
==js
m
— * — J3T
stray in the calm sim - mer gloam-in', To muse on sweet Jes - sie, the
43:
^m
— ^ — « , , r
flow'r o' Dum-blane. How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft fauld-ing
sweet - er an' fair - er.
dear to this bo - som, Is love - ly young
Espres.
love - ly young Jes - sie, Is love - ly young Jes - sie, the flow'r o' Dumblane,
She's modest as ony, an' blythe as she's bonnie,
For guileless simplicity marks her its ain ;
An' far be the villain, divested o' feeling,
Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet flow'r o' Dumblane.
Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'enin',
Thou'rt dear to the echoes o' Calderwood glen ;
Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless arid winning,
Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane.
Words by Sir A. Boswell.
Lively.
183
JENNY DANG THE WEAVER.
Air— Jenny Dang the Weaver.
^3=2
:s=i=!=£
At Wil - lie's wed - ding on the green, The las - ses, bon-nie witches, Were
-fcr \r
a' drest out in a - prons clean, And braw white Sun - day mutch -es.
Jock wad not be-
^^^ra^^^
■> —^7 — + — E \r
lieve her; But soon the fule his fol - ly kent, For Jen - ny dang the
Chorus.
soon the fule his fol - ly kent, For Jen - ny dang the weav - er.
At ilka country dance or reel,
Wi' her he wad be babbin' ;
When she sat down, he sat down,
And to her wad be gabbin' ;
Where'er she gaed, baith but and ben,
The cuif wad never leave her,
Ay keckling like a clockin' hen —
But Jenny dang the weaver. Jenny dang, &c.
Quo' he, " My lass, to speak my mind,
In troth I needna swither —
Ye've bonnie een, and if ye're kind,
I needna seek anither."
He hum'd and haw'd — the lass cried " Feugh !"
And bade the cuif no deave her;
Syne snapt her fingers, lap and leugh,
And dang the silly weaver. Jenny dang, &c
184
0! HUSH THEE, MY BABY!
Words by Sir Walter Scott Scottish Air- -Gadil gu lo.
Sung in the Opera of Guy Mannering.
tea fs
0! hush thee, my ha-byl thy sire was a knight, Thy mo - ther a
la - dy so love - ly and bright! The woods and the glens from these
ad lib. 4.
thee. 0! rest thee, babe, rest thee, babe, sleep on till
day, 0! rest thee, babe, rest thee, babe, sleep while you may.
O ! fear not the bugle, tho' loudly it blows ;
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose.
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of the foe draws near to thy bed.
0 ! rest thee, babe, rest thee, babe, sleep on till day ;
O ! rest thee, babe, rest thee, babe, sleep while you may.
O ! rest thee, my darling, the time soon will come
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum.
Then rest thee, my darling, O ! sleep while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, as light comes with day.
O ! rest thee, babe, rest thee, babe, sleep on till day,
0 ! rest thee, babe, rest thee, babe, sleep while you may
185
Words by Sir Walter Scott.
Moderate p
JOCK 0' HAZELDEAN.
Why weep ye by the tide, la - dye ? Why weep ye by the tide? I'll
Now let this wilfu' grief be done,
And dry that cheek so pale,
Young Frank is chief of Errington,
And lord of Langley-dale.
His step is first in peaceful ha',
His sword in battle keen —
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock o' Hazeldean.
A chain of gold ye shall not lack,
Nor braid to bind your hair ;
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair.
And you, the foremost of them a',
Shall ride our forest queen —
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock o' Hazeldean.
The kirk was deck'd at morning tide,
The tapers glimmer1 d fair ;
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
And dame and knight are there.
They sought her both by bower and ha',
The ladye was not seen —
She's o'er the border, and awa'
"WT Jock o' Hazeldean.
The first stanza of this song is copied from the old bsllad, "Jock of Ilazelgreen."
Buchan's Ballads.
186
COME UNDER MY PIAIDIE.
Words by Hector M'Neill. Air- Johnnie MacgilL
Sprightly.
Come uh- der my plaid -ie, the nighfs gaun to fa'; Come in frae the
cauld hlast, the drift, and the snaw: Come un - der my plaid - ie, and
sit down be - side me, There's room in't, dear las - sie, be - lieve me, for twa.
ev'-ry cauld blast that can blaw; 0 come un- der my plaid-ie,
sit down be - side me, There's room in't, dear las - sie,
~3F -»-
be -lieve me, for twa.
' ' Gae Va wi' yer plaidie ! auld Donald, gae Va ;
I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw !
Gae Va wi' yer plaidie ! I'll no sit beside ye ;
Ye micht be my gutcher ! auld Donald, gae \va.
I'm gaun to meet Johnnie — he's young and he's bonnie ;
He's been at Meg's bridal, fu' trig and fu' braw !
Nane dances sae lichtly, sae gracefu', sae tightly,
His cheek's like the new rose, his brow's like the snaw!"
"Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa';
Your Jock's but a gowk, and has naething ava;
The hail o' his pack he has now on his back ;
He's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.
Be frank now, and kindly— I'll busk ye aye finely;
To kirk or to market there'll few gang sae braw ;
A bien house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in,
And flunkeys to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'. "
187
"My father aye tauld me} my mither and a',
Ye'd mak' a gude husband, and keep me aye Draw.
It's true I lo'e Johnnie ; he's young and he's bonnie ;
But, wae's me! I ken he has naething ava !
I hae little tocher ; ye've made a gude offer ;
I'm now mair than twenty ; my time is but sma' !
Sae gie me your plaidie ; I'll creep in beside ye ;
I thocht ye'd been aulder than threescore and twa!"
She crap in ayont him, beside the stane wa',
Whare Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a' ;
The day was appointed ! — his proud heart it dunted,
And strack 'gainst his side, as if bursting in twa.
He wander'd hame weary, the nicht it was dreary,
And, thowless, he tint his gate 'mang the deep snaw :
The howlet was screamin', while Johnnie cried, " Women
Wad marry auld Nick, if he'd keep them aye braw."
Words by Burns.
MAEY MORISON.
0 Ma-ry, at thy win-dow he, It is the wish'd, the tryst-ed hour ; Those
How glad-ly wad I hide the stoure, A wea - ry slave frae sun to sun, Could
i^^^EEEgSia
I the rich re - ward se - cure, The love - ly Ma - ry Mor - i
Yestreen when to the trembling string
The dance gaed through the lighted ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing,
I sat, but neither heard nor saw :
Though this was fair, and that was braw,
And yon the toast of a' the town,
I sigh'd, and said, amang them a',
"Ye are na Mary Morison."
Q Mary ! canst thou wreck his peace,
Wha for thy sake wad gladly die ?
Or canst thou break that heart of his,
Whase only faut is loving thee ?
If love for love thou wilt na gie,
At least be pit}' to me shown:
A thought ungentle canna be
The thought of Mary Morison.
DUET— THE LASS 0' GOWRIE.
The first stanza of this, the modern version, is from the pen of Carolina Baroness Nairne ; the
others appear to be adapted from " Kate o' Gowrie," by William Reid.
Air— Locherroch Side. — Arranged for this work by D. Baptie.
Treble. Modsrato.
-J — - — ^ • V v- \r
'Twas on a sim-mer's af-ter-noon, A wee
i - fore the sun gaed down,
My las - sie, in a braw new gown, Cam' o'er the hills to Gow - rie.
My las - sie, in a braw new gown, Cam' o'er the hills to Gow - rie.
The rose-bud ting'd wi' morning show'r, Bloom'd fresh within the ha-zel bow'r;
The rose-bud ting'd wi' morning show'r, Bloom'd fresh within the ha-zel bow'r;
But Ka- tie was the fair - est flow'r That ev - er bloom'd in Gow - rie.
But Ka - tie was the fair - est flow'r That ev - er bloom'd in Gow - rie.
I had nae thought to do her wrang,
But round her waist my arms I flang,
And said, my lassie, will ye gang
To view the Carse o' Gowrie.
I'll tak' ye to my father's ha',
In yon green field beside the shaw,
And mak' ye lady o' them a',
The brawest wife in Gowrie.
189
Saft kisses on her lips I laid,
The blush upon her cheek soon spread,
She whisper'd modestly and said,
I'll gang wi' you to Gowrie.
The auld folk soon gied their consent,
And to Mess John we quickly went,
Wha tied us to our hearts' content,
And now she's Lady Gowrie.
Won1 s by Burns.
4-
A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT.
Is there for ho - nest po - ver - ty That hangs his head, and a' that? The
For a* that, and a' that , Our toils ob-scure, and a' that ; The
rank is but the gui - nea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that
What though on hamely fare we dine,
"Wear hoddin grey, and a' that ;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that :
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that ;
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that :
Though hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that :
For a' that, and a' that ;
His riband, star, and a' that,
The man of independent mind
He looks and laughs at a' that.
A prince can mak' a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that ;
But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guid faith ! he maunna fa' that !
For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities, and a' that ;
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher ranks than a' that.
Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will, for a' that,
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree, and a' that :
For a' that, and a' that,
It's coming yet, for a' that,
That man to man, the warl' o'er,
Shall brithers be for a' that.
190
THE EWIE WI' THE CROOKIT HOEN.
Words by the Rev. John Skinner.
Stow with expression.
verse, I'd sound it forth as loud and fierce As ev - er pi-per's drone could blaw.
SH^g^Eil
i=e3=d—
^m
The ew - ie wi' the crook - it horn ! Wha had kent her might ha'e sworn
fe >7P
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— 17 —
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=£=
-*—*=
-=M
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t=l
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y.
o «
LtRT-
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ewe wa3 nev - er horn Here - a - bout, nor
I never needed tar nor keil,
To mark her upo' hip or heel;
Her crookit hornie did as weel,
To ken her by amang them a'.
She never threaten'd scab nor rot,
But keepit aye her ain jog-trot ;
Baith to the fauld and to the cot,
Was never sweirt to lead nor ca\
Cauld nor hunger never dang her,
Wind nor weet could never wrang her ;
Ance she lay an ouk and langer
Furth aneath a wreath o' snaw.
Whan ither ewies lap the dyke,
And ate the kail for a' the tyke,
My ewie never play'd the like,
But tyc'd about the barn wa\
A better, or a thriftier beast
Nae honest man could weel ha'e wist;
For, silly thing, she never mist
To ha'e, ilk year, a lamb or twa.
The first she had I ga'e to Jock,
To be to him a kind o' stock ;
And now the laddie has a flock
O' mair nor thirty head ava.
I lookit aye at even for her,
Lest mischanter should come o'er her,
Or the foumart might devour her,
Gin the beastie bade awa'.
My ewie wi' the crookit horn,
Weel deserv'd baith gerse and corn ;
Sic a ewe was never born,
Hereabout, or far awa'.
Yet, last ouk, for a' my keeping,
(Wha can speak it without greeting?)
A villain cam', when I was sleeping,
Sta' my ewie, horn and a'.
I sought her sair upo' the morn ;
And down aneath a buss o' thorn,
I got my ewie's crookit horn,
But my ewie was awa'.
0 ! gin I had the loon that did it,
Sworn I have, as weel as said it,
Though a' the warld should forbid it,
I wad gi'e his neck a thraw.
1 never met wi' sic a turn
As this, sin' ever I was born ;
My ewie wi' the crookit horn,
Silly ewie, stown awa'.
191
O ! had she dee'd o' crook or cauld,
As ewies do when they are auld,
It wadna been, by mony fauld,
Sae sair a heart to nane o's a'.
For a' the claith that we ha'e worn,
Frae her and her's sae aften shorn;
The loss o' her we could ha'e borne,
Had fair strae-death ta'en her awa'.
But thus, puir thing, to lose her life,
Aneath a bloody villain's knife ;
I'm really fley't that our gudewife
Will never win aboon't ava.
0 ! a' ye bards benorth Kinghorn,
Call your muses up and mourn
Our ewie wi' the crookit horn,
Stown frae's, an' fell' t an' a' I
0 SPEED, LORD NITHSDALE.
Words by Robert Allan.
Slow.
^^^^^i^^l^ii^l
O speed, Lord Nithsdale, speed ye fast, Sin' ye maun frae your coun-trie
flee, Nae mer-cy mot fa' to your share; Nae pi - ty is for thine and thee.
Thy la -dy sits in lone - ly bow'r, And fast the tear fa's frae her e'e; And
feNP^-tH-r^i
^2=S^=*
aye she sighs, 0 blaw ye winds, And bear Lord Niths-dale far frae me.
Her heart, sae wae, was like to break,
While kneeling by the taper bright ;
But ae red drap cam' to her cheek,
As shone the morning's rosy light.
Lord Nithsdale's bark she mot na see,
Winds sped it swiftly o'er the main ;
" 0 ill betide," quoth that fair dame,
" Wha sic a comely knight had slain !"
Lord Nithsdale lov'd wi mickle love ;
But he thought on his countrie's wrang,
And he was deem'd a traitor syne,
And forc'd frae a' he lov'd to gang.
" Oh ! I will gae to my lov'd lord,
He may na smile, I trow, bot me ; "
But hame, and ha', and bonnie bowers,
Nae mair will glad Lord Nithsdale's e'e.
192
LASSIE WT THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS.
Words by Burns. Air— Rothiemurchus' Rant
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks? Wilt thou be my dear - ie, 0?
wilt thou share its joys wi' me, And say thou'lt be my dear - ie, 0.
And when the welcome simmer shower
Has cheer'cl ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
At sultry noon, my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
When Cynthia lights wi' silver ray
The weary shearer's hameward way,
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,
And talk o' love, my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest,
Enclasped to my faithful breast,
I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
END OF THE FIRST SERIES.
GLASGOW:
J-RINTED BY BELL AND BAIN, ST. ENOCH SQUAKE.
GLOSSAKY.
Ae, one
Aboon, above
Afore, before
Aft, often
Aften, often
Ahint, behind
Aik, oak
Ain, own [in hiring
Airl-penny, a coin given as earnest
Airt, direction
Awe, ajar
Alowe, in a flame
Among, among
-<ln, if
^Ince, once
Anither, another
Ase, ashes
vliiccen, between
Aucht, eight
■*4«kJ, old
Auld faurent, old fashioned
^ti/a, at all
Awa', away
Awmry, pantry
Aiums, alms
Ayont, beyond
Bairn, a child
Bairns, children
Baith, both
Bauld. bold
-Bau;tancf , a horse or cow having a
white spot on its forehead
Bein, comfortable
Beld, bald
Ben— see But and ben
Besom, hearth -brush
Bicker, drinking vessel
Bield, shelter, refuge, protection
Bigging, building
Bike, wild bees' hive
Bing'd, curtseyed
Birr, spirit
Birrled, tossed
Blate, bashful
Blaw, blow
Bleare'ed, dim eyed
Blear 't, bedimmed
Bleezing, blazing
Bleth'rin, talking idly
Blink, a little while, a smiling look,
to look kindly, one sight
Blinkin', smirking
Bluid, blood [tiful
Bonnie, or Bonny, handsome, beau-
Bodin', foretelling
Boortree, the elder tree
Bothy, a highland cottage
Brae, side of a hill
Braw, fine, handsome
Brawlie, perfectly, quite well
Bree, water in which meat has been
boiled
Breeks, breeches
Buchts, sheep pens
Buckle, marry
Busk, dress
Busket-braw. well dressed [ment
But and ben, outer and inner apart-
Buffy, chubby
Burnie, streamlet
But, without
Ca' , to call, to name, to drive
Callan, a boy
Caller, or Couler, fresh sound
Cam, come
Cannie, genfle, mild, dexterous
Cantie, or Canty, merry, cheerful
Carle, an old man
Carlie , little boy
Carline, a stout old woman
Carry the sky
Castock, the stalk of a cabbage
Cauld, cold
Chanter, part of a bagpipe
Chield, a young man
Clachan, village
Clankie. blow
Claise, or Claes, clothes
Claith, cloth
deed, clothe
Cleeks, hangs
Clout, to mend — Clout, a blow
Cluds, clouds
Clutha, Gaelic title of the Clyde
Cockernonie, dress cap worn by fe-
males
Coft, bought
Cog, a wooden dish
Coggie, a small sized wooden dish
Coom, coal dust
Coost, did cast
Carrie, a hollow in a hill,
Courin, shivering
Couthie, kind, loving
Cowrin', cowering
Cowt, colt
Cozie, snug
Crack, to converse
Crackin' , conversing
Cragie, a crag
Crap, crept
Craws, crows
Creel, a fishwife's basket
Creepie, a low stool
Crony, comrade
Croodle, to coo as a dove
Crouse, proud
Crummie, cow
Cuif, a blockhead, a ninny, a fool
Cuist, cast
X>a&, to peck as a bird
Daddie, a father
Daffing, funning, making sport
Daft, merry, giddy, foolish
Baud, lump
Dauner, walk slowly
Daur. dare
Baurna, dare not
Bawtie, a pet, a darling
Beave, deaf, to make a noise
Dee, die
Beeing, dying
Delve, dig
Dibbled, planted
Ding, knock, to push, to eclipse
Dinna, do not
Dochter, daughter
Doited, stupid
Dool, sorrow, grief
Doon, down
Douce, gentle, sober, wise, prudent
Douff, pithless
Doueely, quietly
Dour, stubborn
Dow, or Doo, a dove
Dowie, worn with grief, sleepy
194
Downa, expressive of inability
Drap. drop
Dree, suffer
Dreepin', dropping or wet
Drimlie, muddy
Drookit, drenched
Drouth, thirst
Duds, clothes
Duinnewassal, Gaelic for gentleman
Dunt, knock
Dunted, beat
E'e, the eye
Een, the eyes
E'enin', evening
Eerie, frightened, troubled
Eild, old age
En', end
Enew, enough
Fa\ fall, lot, to faU
Faes, foes
Fain, happy, fond [anxious
Fain, anxious— Fidging fain, very
Farin', food
Fashb ms, troublesome
Fasht, troubled
Fauld, a fold, to fold
Fnuts, faults
Fearfu', frightful
Fecht. to fight
Fee, hire
Fen. to make shift
Ferlies, wonders
Fidging, uneasy
Field, fiend
Fit fa', footfall
Flee, fly
Fleech. to supplicate, to coax
Flunkies, servants in livery
Forhye, besides
Forg'ie, to forg'.ve
Fou, full, tipsy
Foumart, a fox
Fouth, lots
Frae, from
Fuffin, puffing
JV.full
Gab, the mouth, to speak boldly or
pertly
Gabbing, speaking and chatting
Gae, to* go
Gaed, went
Gaen, or <3a«e, gone
Gaet, or (?aie. way, manner, road
G-ng. to go. to walk
Gar, to make, to force
Gart, made
Gaucy, jolly, large
Gaun, going
Gawky, foolish, romping
(rear, riches, goods of any kind
Gee, pet
Gerse, grass
Ghaist, a ghost
Gie, to give
Gied, gave
GicM, given
Gilpey, half-grown, half-informed
boy or girl, hoyden
GLOSSARY.
Gin, if, against
Glaiket, foolish, mad
Glamour, the influence of a charm
Gled, a hawk
Gleg, quick, clearsighted
Glint, glance
Gloamin' twilight
Glow'r, to stare, to look
Goupins, handfuls
Gowan, mountain or field daisy
Gowd, gold
Gowk, fool
Grannie, grandmother
Grat, wept
Gravat, a neck-tie
Gree, pre-eminence
Greetin', crying, weeping
Gri.pt, grasped
Grup, grip
Gude, good
Guid e'en, good evening
Guid-mornin' , good morning
Guidman and Guidxoife, the master
and mistress of the house— Young
Guidman and Young Guidwife, a
newly married pair
Guidfather and Guidmother, the fa-
ther-in-law and mother-in-law
Gutcher, grandsire
iTa\ hall
ifae, to have
Haen, had
/fa«H, whole
Hairst, harvest
Halesome, wholesome
Hallan, cottage
Hame, home
Hap, to shield, to cover up
Barum scarum, half-mad
Hauch, a low flat piece of land
Haud, hold
Hear't, hear it
Hech! oh, strange
Heich, high
Herrin', herring
Hinney, honey
Hizzie. romping girl
Hool, husk
Hoseris, stockings
Howket, dug
Howlet, owl
Hunner, hundred
Hurklin, cowering
Ilk, each
Ilka, every
Ingle, fire-place
Ingleside, fireside
I'se, I shall or will
Ither, other, one another
Jag, prick
Jaupit. bespattered
Jee. change
Jeel, jelly
Jink, to dodge, to turn suddenly
round a corner
Jo, sweetheart
Jouks— see Jinks
Joyfu' , joyful
Kail-yard, cabbage garden
Kame. comb
Kebbuck, a cheese
Keek, look, a peep, to peep
Keeking-glass, looking-glass
Ken, to know
Kend, or Kent, knew
Kenna, know not
Kens, knows
Keps, catches
Kilt, a portion of the lighland garb
Kimmer, a young gill a gossip
Kin, kindred, relations
Kintra, country
Kirn, a churn, the harvest supper
Kit-sen. to christen or baptize
Kist, chest
Kittle, to tickle, ticklish
Knotve, a small roun.l hillock
Kve, cows
Kyte, the belly
Laddie, a boy, diminutive of lad
Laigh, low
Laith, unwilling
Lane, lone— My lane, myself, alone
Lanely, lonely
Lang, long, to think long, to long, to
weary
Lap, leap
Laueh, laugh
Lave, the rest, the remainder, the
others
Laverock, the lark
Law, low
Leal, true
Lee, an untruth
Xce lang, live long
Leezeme, a phrase of congratulation
I am happy in thee, or proud of
thee
Leugh, laugh
Leuk, a look, to look
Licht, light
Lift, sky
Lightlie, despise
Lilt, a ballad, a tune, to sing
LUting, singing
Limmer, an abandoned female
Linn, a waterfall, or the pool at the-
bottom of it
Lintie, linnet
Loaning, a broad lane
Zo'e.love
Lo'ed, loved
Loof, the palm of your hand
Loon, a wild young lad
Loot, did let
Loup, leap
Lugs, ears
Lyart, old, thin
Lowe, flame
Jfae, more
Mak', make
Mailin, farm
JtfatV, more
Maist, most
Maistly, mostly
Maukin, a hare
Maun, must
GLOSSARY.
195
Maunna, must not
Mark, a Scottish coin
Marrow, equal, like
Mat, may
Mavis, the thrush
Mess John, the minister
Micht, might
Minnie, mother
Mirk, dark
Mischanter, misfortune
Mither, mother
Monnie, or \fony, many
Mou', mouth
Moudiwart, a mole
Muckle, or Mickle , great, big, much
Mun, must
Murlain, a basket
Mutch, cap worn by females
Mysel', myself
Na, no, not
JVae, no, not any
Naething, or Naithing, nothing
Naig, a nag or horse
Naigies, horses,
Nane, none
Neivefu', handful
Newk, coiner
Neist, next
Mcht, night
Nip-pin, piercing or pinching
Nip-pit, pinched
Nocht, nought
Noo, now
Nout-horn, cow-horn
O', of
O'ercome, burden, as of a song
Onie, any
Ot, of it
Oursels, ourselves
Owk, week
Owre, often, too
Owsen, oxen
Paiks, knocks
Pairtin' , parting
Pappit doun, popped down
Parochin. parish
Pawky, sly or cunning
Perlins, jewels
Philabeg, the kilt
Pibroch, pipe, tune
Plack, an old Scottish coin
Pleuch, plough
Pouther'd, powdered
Pow, head
Pree, to taste
Pree'd, tasted
JVrf, pulled
Puirtith, poverty
Puir, poor
Quo, said
Rackle-handed, strong-handed
Raid, inroad, foray
Rang, reigned
Rax, fetch, reach
Rede, warn
Reek, smoke
Rifted, torn
Rin, run
Rout, the blowing of a horn
Routh, plenty
Rubbit, rubbed
Rung, a walking stick
Sae, so
Saft, soft
/Sew, sore
Sairly, sorely
Sang, song
Sark, shirt
Sassenach, Saxon or lowlander
Sauf, save
Sei', self
Shank, to depart or set off, a thin
scranky leg. a handle
Shauchled, ill or loosely shaped
Shaw, a, wood in a hollow place
Shearing, reaping
Sh'-ene, shoes
Sh citing, cot, a cottage
ShiU, shrill
Sic, such
Siccan, such
Siller, silver money
Simmer, summer
Sin', since
Skaith, to damage, to injure, injury
Skeigh, proud, nice, high mettled
Skelp, to strike, to walk with a smart
tripping step
Skirling, shrieking, crying
Ski-eigh, a scream"; to s'eream
Statu, slow, dull
Slee, sly
Sleekit, sleek, sly
Slogan cry, war cry
Sma', small
Smack, kiss
Smoored smothered
Snaw. snow, to snow
Snaw-ivhite, snow-white
Snawy -drift, snow drift
Soger, soldier
Sonsy, stout, good looking
Sough, the sighing of the wind
Spak', spake
Speel'd, clamb
Speir, ask
Speired, inquired
Spence, parlour
Spurt/e, a stick with which porridge
is stirred when boiling
Stane, stone
Staney, stony
Stappit, stepped
Starn, or sternie, a star
Steek, shut
Stended, strided or walked
Stoot, stout
Stots, oxen
Stoun, pang
Stoups, measures for holding liquids
Stour, dust
Stoivn, stolen
Sumph. fool
Sunkets, left meat
Sweirt, not caring
Syne, then
Tam, taken
Tak\ to take
Takin', taking
Tak' tent, take heed
Tune, tother, the one, the other
Tupsalleerie, upside down
Tent, caution, to take heed
Thae, these
Thegither, together
Themsds, themselves
Tlwct, thought
ThowUss, cold, broken-hearted
Thraws, turns
TiWt, to it
Tine, to lose
Tint, lost
ra/wr, the other
Titterin' , gigling
Tittie, sister
Tittle, to whisper
Tocher, marriage portion
Toddlin, tottering
Toom, empty
Totting, a child's run
Trig, spruce, neat
Trow, believe, know
Tryst, cattle market, a meeting by
appointment
Twa, two
Twa-three, a few
Tyke, dog
Tyne, lose
Unco, strange
Uncouth, very, very great, prodigious
Wa\ wall
Wab, web
Wad, would
Waddin', wedding
Wadna, would not
Wae, sorrowful
Waefu' , wailing, woeful
Waes. woes
Wair, to lay out, to expend
Walth, plenty
Wark, work
Warld, world
Warlock, wizard
Warst, worst
Warstle
waking
Waukrife, sleepless
Waur, worse, to worst -
Wean, child
Weary, or Wearie.mony a weary body,
many a different person
Wede, weeded
Wee, little
Weel, well
Weelfare, welfare
Weel waled, well chosen
Ween, a vow— I ween, I wot
fee*, rain, wetness, dew
Weir, war
We'se, we shall
TT/ia, who
W Aa'H, who will
Wha wadna. who would not
Whare, where
196
Whigamore, a royalist
Whilk, which
Whisht, silence
Whisket, brushed past
Whuds, runs nimbly
Whup, whip
WV, with
Willows, baskets
Winna, will not
Winsome, hearty, gay
Wizend, wrinkled, withered, dried up
Woo', wool
GLOSSARY.
Woo, to court, to make love
Wraith, an apparition exactly like a
living person, the appearance of
which is said to forebode the per-
son's death
Wrang, wrong, to wrong
Wnd, mad, distracted
Wussid, wished
Wylie, cautious
Wyte, blame
Yade, pony
Yammer, to grumble
Ye'll, you will
Ye'se, ye shall
Yestreen, last night
Yett, gate
Ye've, ye have
Yewes, ewes
Yin, one
Yird, earth
YottrseV, yourself
Youthfu\ youthful
Yule, Christmas
ERRATA.
Page 112, 3d line 3d verse, for " back," read " bark."
rage 136, 2d line, instead of " Arranged for this work by James Miller,"-read, " Composed by James Miller,
Arranged for this work by A. Hume."
Page 146. 2d line, instead of " Words by Lady Nairne,"-»-eacJ, " Words by Joanna Baillie, Arranged for this
work by A. Hume."
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